Coining  Home  from  School.  Page  37. 


THE 


SILENT  MAN'S  LEGACY. 


ANNETTE  LUCILE  NOBLE, 
AUTHOR  OF  "THE  PROFESSOR'S  GIRLS,"  KTC. 


PHILADELPHIA  : 

PRESBYTERIAN  BOARD  OF  PUBLICATION 
AND  SABBATH-SCHOOL  WORK, 

No.  1319  WALNUT  STREET. 
1898. 


COPYRIGHT,    1888,  BY 

THE  TRUSTEES  OF  THE 

PRESBYTERIAN  BOARD  OF  PUBLICATION 
AND  SABBATH-SCHOOL  WORK. 


ALL  SIGHTS  RESERVED. 


WESTCOTT  A  THOMSON, 
Stereotypers  and  Electrotypers,  Philada, 


PREFACE. 


THE  story  of  THE  SILENT  MAN  's  LEGACY 
is  in  no  dependent  sense  a  sequel  to  The 
Professor's  Girls,  but  readers  who  have  been 
interested  in  the  latter  book  will  find  in  this 
many  of  the  same  characters. 

A.  L.  N. 

3 


20; 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  I. 
THE  PROFESSOR'S  HOME    . 


CHAPTER   II. 
SCHOOL  REVISITED 27 

CHAPTER   IIL 
A  BLOW  AND  A  LETTER 44 

CHAPTER   IV. 
VARIOUS  TOPICS 81 

CHAPTER   V. 
ABBY'S  LETTER 115 

CHAPTER  VI. 

AT  COUSIN  RAYNOR'S 120 

5 


6  CONTENTS. 

CHAPTEE  VII. 

PAGE 

BAD  NEWS  FOB  MADGE 139 

CHAPTER  VHL 

I*  VANITY  FAIR 156 

CHAPTEE   IX. 
GRANDMA'S  BIRTHDAY 172 

CHAPTEE    X. 
TIDINGS  FROM  COLORADO 196 

CHAPTEE   XL 
THE  MASCOT'S  EETURN 219 

CHAPTEE  XII. 
THE  LEGACY 233 

CHAPTEE   XILL 
MADGE  OPENS  HER  HEART 250 

CHAPTEE    XIV. 
ABBY  FINDS  HER  ORPHAN 272 

CHAPTEE  XV. 
GRANDMA  GREY'S  EEMINISCENCES 285 


CONTENTS.  7 

CHAPTER  XVI. 

PAGE 

THE  PICNIC 304 

CHAPTER   XVII. 
RUTH'S  ADVENTURE 330 

CHAPTER  XVIII. 
MRS.  PRESTON  RECEIVES  A  SHOCK 345 

CHAPTER  XIX. 
"BLESSED  ARE  THE  PURE  IN  HEART" 355 

CHAPTER  XX. 
RUTH.  .   367 


THE   SILENT  MAN'S  LEGACY. 


CHAPTER  I. 

THE  PROFESSOR'S  HOME. 
"  A  man's  fortune  may  grow  out  at  heels." — SHAKESPEARE. 

PROFESSOR  PRESTON  was  on  his 

J-  way  home  from  the  daily  round  of 
academy  duties.  It  was  a  warm,  sunshiny, 
fragrant  afternoon  in  May.  The  long  ave- 
nue of  horse-chestnut  trees  was  wondrously 
beautiful,  for  each  tree  was  loaded  with 
masses  of  white  blossoms.  Usually  the  Pro- 
fessor enjoyed  such  sights,  but  this  day  he 
never  noticed  his  surroundings  until  he 
reached  the  pretty  park  midway  between  the 
school  and  his  home.  There  he  turned  aside 
to  a  quiet,  shaded  corner  where  by  a  tiny, 
pattering  fountain  was  a  seat  seldom  occupied 
save  by  the  Professor  himself.  He  seated 


10  THE  SILENT  MAN'S  LEGACY. 

himself  and  fell  into  so  profound  a  medita- 
tion that  two  pugnacious  sparrows  fought 
unnoticed  at  his  feet  and  almost  chose  his 
dusty  boot  as  their  battle-ground.  A  gentle 
little  lady  approached,  and  only  aroused 
him  by  her  exclamation : 

"  I  suspected  I  would  find  you  here.  I 
was  on  my  way  home  from  a  call  when  I 
saw  the  schoolgirls  were  in  the  streets,  and 
knew  you  had  started  toward  home,  at  least." 

"  Yes,  dear,"  returned  the  Professor,  his 
grave  face  brightening  a  little  as  he  made  a 
place  at  his  side  for  the  lady.  "  Can't  you 
sit  here  a  little  while  and  talk  over  matters  ? 
There  will  not  be  much  chance  when  Ruth 
and  Madge  are  home  again.  I  do  not  like 
to  worry  Ruth,  she  takes  everybody's  trou- 
bles so  to  heart." 

"Has  anything  new  happened?"  asked 
Mrs.  Preston,  anxiously. 

"  No,  but  I  question  how  long  things  can 
go  on  with  me  at  the  academy  as  they  are 
now  going.  I  am  seriously  disappointed  with 
the  trustees,  and  they  are  getting  out  of  pa- 
tience with  me." 

"  It   is  grossly    unjust,  Philip,"  she   ex- 


THE  PROFESSOR'S  HOME.  11 

claimed,  with  unwonted  heat.  "You  have 
given  your  best  energies  to  that  work,  and 
have  met  with  no  return  in  appreciation,  and 
only  a  meagre  salary  that  you  have  earned 
five  times  over." 

"  I  am  getting  old  and  rusty,  it  may  be." 
He  smiled  sadly. 

"  Nonsense !  You  know  it  is  they  who 
are  old-fogyish.  They  want  no  new  systems, 
no  innovations,  but  want  to  jog  along  with 
books  that  were  discarded  by  all  progressive 
teachers  years  ago." 

"  Yes,  the  old  building  itself  is  so  dilapi- 
dated, so  poorly  ventilated  and  lighted,  that 
I  know  more  persons  than  one  have  suffered 
in  consequence.  That  is  bad  enough,  but 
that  which  sits  heaviest  on  my  conscience  is 
the  actual  fraud — as  I  consider  it — in  regard 
to  the  educational  advantages,  or  rather  dis- 
advantages. People  are  sending  their  sons 
and  their  daughters  to  that  academy  in  the 
belief  that  for  money  paid  a  fair  equivalent 
is  to  be  received  if  the  pupils  do  their  best. 
This  is  not  true.  There  is  a  score  of  cheaper 
schools  within  a  circle  of  fifty  miles  where 
the  advantages  are  beyond  comparison  bet- 


12  THE  SILENT  MAN'S  LEGACY. 

ter.  I  do  my  best,  but  I  am  crippled  hand 
and  foot.  Miss  Elder  is  becoming  really 
demoralized,  and  the  other  teachers  are  in- 
capable of  any  higher  standard,  morally  or 
intellectually,  than  that  which  satisfies  the 
trustees.  I  would  resign  in  a  moment  if 
I — "  There  was  no  need  of  his  finishing 
the  sentence:  that  mean  salary  which  the 
Professor  drew  quarterly  was  all  that  kept 
the  wolf  from  the  door  of  the  old  yellow 
house  on  the  hill. 

For  once  Mrs.  Preston  could  think  of  no 
encouraging  word  that  had  not  lost  all  force 
by  frequent  repetition — at  least,  anything 
she  could  say  about  school  matters ;  but, 
bad  as  they  were,  she  suddenly  appre- 
hended that  it  would  be  far  worse  for  all 
concerned  if  the  Professor  were  to  be  de- 
posed from  his  position  as  principal.  After 
a  little  silence  she  exclaimed, 

"  Well,  there  is  only  one  more  month  of 
school  before  the  summer  vacation,  and 
possibly  the  trustees  may  conclude  to  take 
your  advice  and  make  the  improvements." 

The  Professor  opened  his  lips  to  impart  a 
bit  of  information  calculated  to  dishearten 


THE  PROFESSOR'S  HOME.  13 

her  more  than  anything  already  said ;  then, 
restraining  himself,  he  only  remarked,  more 
cheerfully,  as  she  fancied, 

"  Yes ;  we  will  not  borrow  trouble.  If  I 
were  a  younger  man,  I  would  try  to  secure  a 
new  position  elsewhere  before  fall." 

"  Then  you  would  have  to  resign  the  old 
one  at  the  end  of  this  term.  That  would 
be  too  precarious  a  step,"  she  returned,  anx- 
iously. 

"  Of  course  I  shall  not  do  it.  Half  a  loaf 
is — bread." 

"We  must  not  get  down-hearted.  Mrs. 
Allen  writes  me  that  Madge  is  doing  so 
well  in  all  her  studies  that  next  year  she 
will  engage  her  to  teach  the  younger  pupils 
and  pay  her  three  hundred  a  year,  increas- 
ing the  salary  as  she  gains  experience.  She 
says,  too,  that  if  we  can  spare  Ruth  she  will 
engage  her  also;  but  I  think  we  want  one 
of  our  girls  at  home." 

"Let  me  see:  they  will  be  here  now  in 
three  weeks,  will  they  not  ?  No  man  ought 
to  feel  poor  with  such  daughters;"  and  at 
the  mere  thought  of  merry,  handsome  Madge 
and  fair  Kuth,  with  her  earnest  eyes,  his 


14  THE  SILENT  MAN'S  LEGACY. 

face  brightened,  and  he  started  homeward 
shaking  off  something  of  his  despondency. 

Mrs.  Preston  tried  to  forget  how  warm 
and  worn  was  her  winter  dress,  how  fresh 
and  attractive  were  the  spring  suits  of  the 
ladies  who  met  and  passed  them  with  friend- 
ly greetings ;  she  tried  to  enjoy  the  beauty 
of  the  new  verdure,  the  flowering  fruit  trees, 
the  song,  the  perfume  and  the  sunlight  all 
about  her.  As  they  approached  the  old 
yellow  house  she  thought,  "  I  ought  to  be 
the  happiest  woman  in  the  village.  There 
never  was  a  skeleton  in  any  closet  under 
that  roof — never!" 

The  Preston  household  at  this  time  con- 
sisted of  the  Professor  and  his  wife ;  Grand- 
mother Grey,  serene,  light-hearted  and  beau- 
tiful in  her  old  age  ;  Johnny,  a  big  blunder- 
ing chap  of  thirteen,  over  whom  the  Profess- 
or sighed  frequently,  noting  the  discrepancy 
between  the  capacity  of  his  brain  and  his 
stomach;  Uncle  Henry  Preston,  the  silent 
bachelor,  of  late  failing  in  health;  and 
Abby,  the  well-beloved  factotum. 

"Abby,"  said  Mrs.  Preston,  going  into  the 
spotless  domain  where  the  spinster  presided, 


THE  PROFESSOR'S  HOME.  15 

"you  may  make  coffee  instead  of  tea  to- 
night; Mr.  Preston  feels  a  little  over-tired, 
and  coffee  will  refresh  him  more  than  tea 
would  do." 

"  He's  worryin'  about  them  'cademy  per- 
formances, he  is,"  returned  Abby,  bluntly. 
"  Ministers  and  teachers  always  do  just  fret 
the  life  out  of  them  over  stupid  folks'  souls 
and  brains,  whereas  I've  noticed  that  when 
a  man's  business  has  to  do  with  bodies  he  is 
sure  to  get  fat  and  hearty.  Old  Dr.  Hickox 
is  jolly  from  dawn  till  dark,  and  the  butcher 
around  the  corner  is  like  a  porker.  Med- 
dling with  consciences  and  brains  and  books 
never  would  be  my  choice  of  a  profession." 

"  But  my  husband  would  not  make  a 
very  good  butcher,  Abby,"  laughed  Mrs. 
Preston. 

"  No  !  Mercy,  no  !  He'd  ought  to  have 
been  rich;  he'd  have  adorned  a  fortune, 
and  so  would  you.  I  guess  I'll  broil  him  a 
bit  of  ham." 

"  Yes,  do.  Has  any  one  been  here  while 
1  was  gone  ?" 

"  Not  a  creeter,  but  all  the  same  I  have 
heard  something  that  will  surprise  you. 


16  THE  SILENT  MAN'S  LEGACY. 

What  do  you  think  Uncle  Henry  is  going 
to  do?" 

"  Let  the  doctor  take  him  under  his  care  ? 
I  am  really  worried  about  him ;  he  eats 
nothing  to  speak  of,  and  looks  more  ill  every 
day." 

"Well,  he  ain't  going  to  do  that,  but 
something  queerer.  Now  that  he  has  stayed 
here  steady-like  for  'most  four  years,  I  never 
expected  he  would  pull  up  his  stakes  again 
and  go  roaming  like  a  Bedowing  A-rab. 
He's  going  to,  though.  He  asked  me  would 
I  give  him  his  shirts  out  of  the  wash  rough- 
dry  to  night,  because  he  was  going  to  Colo- 
rado to-morrow." 

Mrs.  Preston  looked  every  whit  as  sur- 
prised as  Abby  supposed  she  would  look 
after  this  announcement. 

"  You  don't  suppose  he  is  crazy,  do  you, 
Mis'  Preston  ?" 

"  Of  course  not,  Abby ;  he  has  always  come 
and  gone  suddenly.  Probably  he  thinks  his 
health  will  be  improved  by  a  change." 

"  Oh,  'tain't  just  the  journey,  but  he  has 
talked  lately.  He  spoke  twice  of  his  own 
accord  last  evening  to  me,  and  once  the  day 


THE  PROFESSOR'S  HOME.  17 

before,  and  since  about  March  he  has  said 
at  least  a  dozen  sentences,  mostly  grumbling. 
He  says  the  house  is  getting  to  be  an  old 
rattle-trap  and  wants  money  spent  on  new 
doorsteps,  weatherstrips  and  shingles  on  the 
roof,  and,  that  done,  it  had  better  be  burned 
down  and  rebuilt.  Yes,  maybe  his  health  is 
a-taking  him  away,  but  he  has  lost  some 
money  in  a  mine  out  there ;  he  said  so  one 
night  after  reading  a  letter.  I  reckon  the 
old  bachelor  hasn't  got  only  about  enough 
to  keep  him." 

"  Not  much  more,  I  am  sure,"  replied  Mrs. 
Preston,  her  spirits  falling  lower  than  before 
at  this  new  developement.  Uncle  Henry 
paid  his  board — at  a  very  low  rate,  to  be  sure, 
but  the  small  amount  was  a  considerable 
item  in  the  domestic  finances.  Had  he  been 
quite  penniless,  he  would  have  met  with  care 
and  kindness  in  his  own  brother's  house, 
but,  having  a  little  income,  Mrs.  Preston 
had  been  glad  that  he  chose  to  stay  with 
them.  A  faint  hope  stirred  in  her  for  a  mo- 
ment, and  then,  half  ashamed,  she  suppressed 
it — a  hope  that  at  his  departure  he  might  do 
as  he  had  sometimes  done  upon  occasions  of 
2 


18  THE  SILENT  MAN'S  LEGACY. 

a  similar  nature :  leave  behind  him  a  little 
gift. 

Abby  bustled  about  with  cheerful  alacrity, 
grinding  coffee  and  broiling  ham,  while  her 
mistress  set  the  table  herself  to  expedite 
matters,  reflecting  as  she  did  it: 

"  He  is  quite  right :  everything  is  getting 
old  and  worn  out.  This  carpet  is  almost 
threadbare,  and  how  the  curtains  are  faded ! 
But  the  sunset  light  fills  the  room  and  moth- 
er's rugs  cover  the  worst  spots  in  the  carpet. 
I  will  not  distrust  the  care  of  God ;  all  these 
little  possibilities  of  trouble  may  come  to 
nothing." 

Soon  the  tea-bell  rang,  and  the  family 
gathered  around  the  board,  ready,  as  usual, 
to  talk  only  of  the  pleasant  topics  of  that 
day's  doing  or  seeing.  Grandma  had  been 
to  a  missionary  meeting,  and  after  hearing 
the  story  of  the  privations  endured  by 
Christians  in  foreign  lands  felt  as  if  she  had 
lived  all  her  life  in  luxury.  Uncle  Henry 
ate  his  toast  in  perfect  silence.  Just  before 
the  meal  ended  Mrs.  Preston  ventured  to  say 
to  him, 

"  Henry,  Abby  tells  me  you  are  going  to 


THE  PROFESSOR'S  HOME.  19 

leave  us.  Are  you  strong  enough  to  stand 
such  a  long  journey?" 

"  Yes ;  it  is  necessary." 

Grandma  was  the  only  one  who  said 
much  after  that  reply,  given  in  a  slightly- 
impatient  tone.  She  assumed  that  his  liver 
was  out  of  order,  and  dared  to  advise  him 
what  to  do  and  what  not  to  do,  as  if  he  were 
likely  to  put  her  ideas  in  practice. 

"  Oh,  mother,"  exclaimed  Johnny,  stop- 
ping a  biscuit  on  its  way  to  his  mouth,  "  there 
is  a  letter  from  the  girls  in  the  other  room  ; 
I  got  it  just  before  supper,  but  forgot  to  tell 
you." 

"  I  am  sorry  to  have  you  go  before  the 
girls  get  home,  Henry.  They  will  be  here 
in  three  weeks,"  said  the  Professor. 

His  brother  lifted  his  eyes  with  a  faint 
show  of  interest,  and  nodded ;  then  the 
chairs  were  pushed  back,  and  all  but  Uncle 
Henry  hastened  to  the  parlor  to  hear  the 
letter.  The  first  pages  were  from  Madge, 
the  last  from  Ruth  : 

"  DEAK,  DEARER,  DEAREST  PRESTONITES  : 
Do  you  realize  that  if  all  goes  well  you  will 


20  THE  SILENT  MAN'S  LEGACY. 

see  Ruth's  beaming  countenance  and  mine 
(mine  first,  if,  as  usual,  I  tumble  out  of  the 
train  into  somebody's  arms)  in  three  weeks 
one  day  and  five  hours  ?  We  are  coming, 
too,  with  such  neat  little  diplomas  tied  with 
white  satin  ribbons,  certifying  that  we  are 
learned  to  the  last  degree,  absolutely  fault- 
less in  deportment  and  capable  of  covering 
ourselves  and  all  our  relatives  with  glory  if 
we  happen  to  get  an  opportunity.  I  write 
this  beforehand,  for  I  have  a  lingering  fear 
that  you  will  fail  in  proper  reverence  for 
me,  because,  of  course,  there  are  a  few  lit- 
tle idiosyncrasies  which  I  may  still  retain. 
Ruth  says  I  am  too  poor  to  risk  paying  dou- 
ble postage  on  long  words,  so  I  will  let  you 
find  out  my  perfections  later.  Ruth  is  just 
as  well  as  I  am ;  her  cheeks  are  so  pink 
that  the  girls  call  her  '  Sweet-pea  Blossom.' 
"  Mother,  you  need  not  worry  one  bit  over 
our  graduation-dresses;  Ruth  has  evolved 
them  out  of  next  to  nothing.  Of  course, 
when  I  saw  the  other  girls'  lovely  white 
cashmeres  and  surah  satins,  I  began  to  turn 
green  with  envy  and  knew  we  could  get 
nothing  fit  to  wear.  But  Ruth  quietly  took 


THE  PROFESSOR'?  HOME.  21 

those  white  mulls  we  have  worn  for  three 
years ;  had  a  French  laundress  do  them  up 
like  new  (after  Ruth  had  altered  and  mod- 
ernized) ;  then  she  trimmed  them  with  some 
nice  lace  Cousin  Jane  gave  her  when  she 
was  in  Europe,  and,  as  you  would  say, 
mother,  they  are  'altogether  suitable'  for 
our  circumstances. 

"  By  the  way,  there  is  a  funny  old  woman 
who  sells  vegetables  here,  and  she  told  Mrs. 
Allen  that  once  she  '  enjoyed  good  circum- 
stances, but  she  lost  them.'  Don't  you  wish 
we  could  lose  our  circumstances  and  find  a 
great  deal  better  ones  ?  I  am  not  complain- 
ing about  myself,  but  father  ought  to  be 
appreciated.  Mrs.  Allen  says  it  is  too  bad 
that  a  man  of  his  intellect  should  not  have 
a  college  professorship  at  least.  Now  I  will 
stop,  for  I  am  distressing  grandma  by  such 
unthankfulness. 

"  Do  you  think  that  you  could  bring  your- 
self to  spare  me  for  the  last  two  weeks  in 
June?  I  had  a  letter  from  Cousin  Jane 
Kaynor  yesterday,  and  she  said  that  her 
husband  was  going  West  on  business — would 
stop  over-night  at  our  house  on  his  return 


22  THE  SILENT  MAN'S  LEGACY. 

and  be  happy  to  have  me  go  on  to  New 
York  with  him  and  make  a  little  visit 
before  they  leave  the  city  for  the  summer. 
Bert  will  be  home,  and  she  says  their  new 
house  up  town  is  delightful.  I  would  not 
ask  to  go  if  she  had  not  intimated  that  she 
should  see  I  had  no  trouble  about  expenses 
and  added  that  Mr.  Raynor  had  passes  over 
the  railroad.  You  know  I  never  even  saw 
a  great  city,  and  feel  so  ignorant  and  green. 

"  Mrs.  Allen  sends  a  most  cordial  invita- 
tion to  you  and  father  to  come  here  for  the 
closing  exercises  of  the  school.  I  suppose 
father  can't  come,  for  the  academy  term  will 
not  be  out,  but  we  do  wish  mother  would 
come.  Millbridge  is  a  beautiful  old  town  ;  I 
want  you  to  see  it.  And  then  Mrs.  Allen 
would  enjoy  so  much  a  visit  with  one  who 
she  says  was  always  her  ideal  of  a  perfect 
lady — meaning  you,  Mother  Preston! 

"  Dear  me !  I  was  only  getting  ready  to 
put  something  interesting  in  my  letter,  and 
here  is  Ruth  waiting  to  finish  it.  .Tell 
Abby  I  have  dreamed  three  times  of  her 
lately — a  sweet  dream  of  maple  syrup  and 
delicious  waffles,  Abby  hovering  over  like 


THE  PROFESSOR* S  HOME.  23 

an  attendant  spirit,  Johnny  and  I,  open- 
mouthed,  sitting  in  the  near  horizon. — Yes, 
yes,  Ruth ! — I  was  going  to  end  with  a  moral 
reflection,  but  she  will  not  give  me  another 
minute." 

"  Dear  mother,"  began  Ruth,  in  a  much 
neater  chirography  than  Madge  had  em- 
ployed, "  do  you  not  think  it  is  possible  for 
father  to  have  some  one  take  his  place  in 
the  academy,  so  that  he  can  come  with  you 
to  Millbridge  when  we  graduate?  for  it  is 
quite  decided  that  you  are  to  come.  This 
little  money-order  you  will  find  in  the  let- 
ter pays  your  fare,  so  you  have  no  excuse. 
And  don't  you  worry  for  fear  we  stole  it  or 
went  without  something  you  would  want  us 
to  have.  Lest  you  do,  I  will  tell  you  about 
it.  One  of  the  girls  here  admires  to  'dis- 
traction,' as  she  says,  that  lace  I  learned 
to  knit  when  in  Germany.  I  tried  to  teach 
her  how  to  do  it  herself,  but  her  fingers  are 
all  thumbs.  She  has  plenty  of  spending- 
money,  and  offered  to  pay  me  for  making 
her  a  dozen  yards.  I  was  so  glad  in  that  way 
to  get  this  money  for  your  expenses  here ! 
And  Madge  earned  it  just  as  much,  because, 


24  THE  SILENT  MAN'S  LEGACY. 

to  give  me  the  spare  time,  she  did  my  room- 
work  and  mended  my  clothes — even  my 
stockings.  Is  not  the  last  a  proof  that  she 
has  'matured'  wonderfully,  as  Mrs.  Allen 
lately  declared  ?  I  hope  you  will  think  she 
can  go  to  New  York ;  she  would  enjoy  it  all 
so  very  much. 

"  And  now,  mother,  will  you  think  of 
something  and  give  me  an  answer  when  you 
come  to  Millbridge  ?  Do  you  remember 
hearing  Madge  talk  a  great  deal  about  her 
first  room-mate,  Loraine  Faye?  She  was 
graduated  two  years  ago,  but  returned  as  a 
sort  of  parlor-boarder.  She  has  no  home. 
Mrs.  Allen  says  that  her  father  was  a  man 
of  brilliant  intellect  and  great  wealth,  but  he 
disgraced  himself  politically,  became  insane 
and  committed  suicide.  Loraine's  guardians 
embezzled  a  great  part  of  her  property,  and 
her  stepmother  cast  her  off  because  she  could 
not  get  possession  of  the  remainder.  Lo- 
raine herself  I  am  sure  you  would  like.  She 
is  almost  three  years  older  than  I  am,  but 
from  the  first  she  seemed  to  choose  me  to 
talk  and  walk  and  be  with.  She  is  very 
fond  of  Madge,  but  always  declares  that  you 


THE  PROFESSOR'S  HOME.  25 

all  at  borne  labor  under  a  mistake  in  think- 
ing  Madge  older  tban  I  am.  In  fact,  we 
have  given  up  trying  to  convince  people  of 
tbe  truth,  and  without  protest  I  let  them 
tell  me  about  my  'younger'  sister. 

"But  I  was  going  to  tell  you  about  Loraine. 
One  night  she  said  she  would  be  so  happy 
if  she  could  be  a  little  while  in  a  real  home  ; 
her  mother  died  when  she  was  six  years  old. 
While  we  were  talking  I  wished  that  I  was 
able  to  invite  her  to  come  and  spend  a  sum- 
mer with  us,  but  I  knew  that  company  for 
so  long  would  increase  the  family  expenses 
and  was  not  to  be  thought  of  for  a  minute. 
Yesterday,  Loraine  told  me  that  she  always 
boarded  at  the  seaside  or  in  the  mountains 
every  summer,  and  she  asked  me  if  we  could 
be  persuaded  this  summer  to  let  her  come 
and  board  with  us.  She  is  a  real  lady, 
mother,  even  according  to  your  standard, 
which  the  longer  I  live  the  higher  I  find. 
She  is  one  of  the  most  conscientious  girls 
in  the  school,  but  she  does  not  call  herself  a 
Christian.  She  shows  respect  to  every  one's 
religion  and  is  absolutely  silent  about  her 
own  belief  and  experience.  For  all  that, 


26  THE  SILENT  MAN'S  LEG  ACT 

Mrs.  Allen  told  me  that  no  girl  in  the  school 
ever  had  a  better  influence  over  the  others 
than  Loraine  Faye,  because  she  so  hated 
hypocrisy  and  inconsistency.  She  always 
expects  people  to  be  true  to  their  professions, 
and  before  her  they  are  ashamed  not  to  be 
so.  Now,  mother,  could  we  not  let  Loraine 
come  in  the  way  she  proposes?  Think  it  all 
over — though,  of  course,  if  it  will  increase 
your  cares  in  any  way  or  be  an  inconveni- 
ence, don't  hesitate  to  say  '  No/  and  Loraine 
will  understand. 

"Now  good-bye,  every  one  of  you,  dear 
home-folks.      It   does  seem  as  if  we  could 
not  wait  three  weeks  before  seeing  you  all." 
"  Affectionately  your  girls, 

"MADGE  AND  RUTH." 


CHAPTER   II. 

SCHOOL    REVISITED. 

"  Choose  for  us,  God,  not  let  our  weak  preferring 

Cheat  our  poor  souls  of  good  thou  hast  designed ; 
Choose  for  us,  God  :  thy  wisdom  is  unerring, 
And  we  are  fools  and  blind." 

"  TJURRY,  Ruth  !     Oh,  do  hurry  I"   ex- 
-tl  claimed   Madge  Preston.      "What   if 
the  train  should  get  in  and  we  not  meet 
mother  ?" 

"  I  am  coming.  But,  Madge,  I  have  of- 
ten noticed  that  the  three-o'clock  train  does 
not  come  at  half-past  two,"  laughed  Ruth, 
coming  out  to  the  great  porch  to  button  her 
gloves. 

All  over  the  pillars  ran  pink  and  white 
roses  in  luxuriant  bloom  ;  great  trees  shaded 
the  lawn,  where  the  close-cut  grass  was  like 
soft  green  moss.  Within  the  roomy  man- 
sion all  was  youthful  life  and  happiness. 
Girls  were  singing  anniversary  carols  ;  girls 

27 


28  THE  SILENT  MAN'S  LEGACY. 

were  playing  nine  different  tunes  on  nine 
different  pianos;  girls  were  laughing,  talk- 
ing, studying  and  running  up  and  down 
stairs ;  and  in  every  girl's  heart  were 
thoughts  of  home  and  friends. 

Loraine  Faye,  coming  suddenly  on  the 
sisters  as  they  stood  there  together,  said 
playfully, 

"Don't  quite  devour  her  at  the  station, 
but  leave  a  bit  for  me  to  look  at,  because  I 
never  half  believed  in  that  perfect  mother." 

"  That  was  because  you  judged  her  from 
two  imperfect  copies,"  returned  Madge. 
"  Wait  until  you  see  the  original." 

"  Does  either  one  of  you  resemble  her  ?" 
asked  Loraine,  looking  at  the  lovely  girls, 
who  certainly  could  never  be  copies  of  the 
same  model. 

Madge  was  all  roundness  and  graceful 
curves,  with  a  dark,  clear  skin  and  glowing 
cheeks.  Her  big,  soft  eyes  talked  for  her  if 
ever  her  busy  little  tongue  grew  weary,  which 
seldom  happened.  There  were  strength  and 
elasticity  in  Ruth's  tall,  slight  figure,  though 
she  kept  a  fragile,  almost  spiritual,  air,  so 
delicate  was  her  flower-like  face,  so  filmy  the 


SCHOOL  REVISITED.  29 

pale-golden  hair  that  caught  every  sunbeam 
in  its  meshes. 

"  Oh,  you  shall  see  our  mother  for  your- 
self in  just  one  half  hour,"  called  back 
Ruth,  running  lightly  after  Madge  down 
the  broad  gravel-walk. 

"  I  don't  think  I  ever  was  young  in  the 
way  those  two  girls  are,"  reflected  Loraine, 
watching  them  along  the  quiet  street.  "  I 
was  contented  and  trustful  of  people  in  those 
days  when  father  let  me  have  my  fairy-tales 
on  the  desk  by  his  papers,  but  the  house  was 
so  grand  and  empty !  I  never  ran  and 
shouted  like  other  children.  Then  he  mar- 
ried, and  she  made  me  wretched  enough  un- 
til I  learned,  when  father  died,  what  it  was 
to  be  all  alone  in  the  world.  I  was  getting 
to  lean  a  little  on  father's  friend,  to  think  he 
had  my  real  interest  at  heart,  when  he  be- 
trayed his  trust  so  shamefully.  If  he  had 
only  lost  the  money  in  any  honest  transac- 
tions, I  should  not  have  blamed  him  ;  but 
he  schemed  so  cunningly  to  outwit  a  mere 
girl !  There  are  good  people  in  the  world — 
Mrs.  Allen  is  good ;  these  Prestons  must  be — 
but  is  it  not  because  actual  temptations  never 


SO  THE  SILENT  MAN'S  LEGACY. 

touch  them,  because  their  lives  are  shut  away 
from  the  real  world?  Father  lived  out 
among  strong  men,  where  great  political, 
moral  and  intellectual  questions  were  de- 
bated and  settled  one  way  or  another.  His 
wife  delights  to  call  herself  a  'queen  of 
society ; '  she  used  to  tell  me  she  knew  the 
world  as  I  knew  my  primer.  Yet  neither 
father  nor  his  wife  believed  in  sincerity  or 
in  disinterested  goodness  or  in  any  gratitude 
beyond  the  '  lively  sense  of  favors  to  come.' 
I  wonder  if  they  missed  something  better 
in  life  that  would  have  made  it  seem  worthi- 
er to  them  ?  I  don't  want  to  grow  bitter  or 
misanthropic  ;  I  would  like  to  approach  peo- 
ple and  things  in  the  mood  Ruth  Preston 
meets  them.  Ruth  is  a  real  little  gospel  to 
me.  What  am  I  going  to  do  with  my  life, 
any  way  ?  I  don't  need  to  be  a  teacher,  and 
I  don't  want  to  be  one,  but  I  can't  very  well 
come  back  here  as  a  scholar.  Girls  like  me 
usually  think  that  they  have  a  'mission;'  I 
seem  to  have  no  enthusiasms  for  humanity, 
art  or  science,  but  it  is  dreadful  to  get  where 
nothing  seems  worth  while." 

"Are   you   tired,  Loraine?"   asked   Mrs. 


SCHOOL  REVISITED.  31 

Allen,  pausing  on  her  way  past  the  hail 
door. 

Loraine  looked  less  erect  and  strong  than 
usual ;  her  clear  eyes  were  too  sad  for  such 
a  day  of  sunshine  and  roses : 

"  No,  thank  you,  Mrs.  Allen,  only  a  little 
blue  to  think  I  am  getting  too  old  to  stay 
here  much  longer  under  your  wing." 

"  Well,  dear,  I  promise  you  not  to  push 
you  suddenly  out  of  the  nest  as  the  hard- 
hearted old  birds  push  their  brood.  What 
plans  have  you  for  the  summer?  If  you 
will  be  happy,  I  wish  you  would  stay  here 
with  me  a  few  weeks  after  the  school  closes." 

"  I  would  be  very  glad  to  do  that,  Mrs. 
Allen.  I  have  no  plans  beyond  a  hope  that 
I  can  go  and  board  a  while  in  the  Preston 
family  ;  the  girls  are  to  ask  their  mother 
if  I  may." 

"That  is  good,  Loraine,"  said  the  lady. 
"  I  am  thinking  so  much  of  meeting  Mrs. 
Preston  again  after  twenty-five  years !" 

In  about  half  an  hour  Ruth  and  Madge 
returned  triumphant,  both  grasping  their 
mother's  hands  as  if  they  feared  she  would 
escape  them  and  vanish,  though  with  flushed 


32  THE  SILENT  MAN'S  LEGACY. 

cheeks  and  bright  eyes  she  yielded  to  their 
incessant  demands  to  "see  this"  or  to  "coine 
here."  She  must  see  the  pretty  room  where 
so  many  hours  had  been  spent  in  study, 
rest  and  social  intercourse;  she  must  go 
over  the  fine  old  mansion  ;  she  must  see  the 
roses  and  lilies  in  the  garden ;  she  must  tell 
them  all  about  home.  Then  at  tea-time  it 
was  delightful  to  meet  Mrs.  Allen  in  her 
own  cozy  parlor  and  to  have  pleasant  con- 
versation together  around  a  little  table  where 
they  were  her  guests. 

The  girls  restrained  their  desire  to  talk, 
and  listened  while  the  reunited  friends  re- 
called scenes  long  passed.  How  strange  it 
seemed,  and  a  little  mournful,  to  be  hearing 
of  this  girl  "  who  was  so  lovely  "  and  now 
dead  ;  that  one  "  we  considered  so  brilliant  " 
living  an  obscure  burdened  life;  another, 
with  ten  children ;  this  one,  a  missionary  ; 
that  one,  a  famous  writer ! 

"  I  suppose  some  day  we  may  meet  Lo- 
raine  and  talk  in  this  way,"  whispered 
Madge  to  Ruth. 

"Then  I  hope  we  will  be  as  sweet  and 
pretty  as  mother  is,  and  I  often  fancy  Lo- 


SCHOOL  REVISITED.  33 

raine  may  grow  somewhat  like  Mrs.  Allen," 
answered  Ruth. 

That  night,  before  the  girls  slept,  Mrs. 
Preston,  who  had  seen  and  liked  Loraine, 
gave  her  consent  to  the  proposed  plan,  only 
saying, 

"Be  sure,  girls,  that  you  let  her  know 
just  how  simply  we  live,  or  she  may  be  dis- 
appointed." 

"  She  knows  it  all,  mother.  Once  I  was 
too  proud  to  have  the  rich  girls  know  that 
we  were  merely — merely — " 

"Poor  but  respectable,"  laughed  Ruth 
when  Madge  hesitated ;  adding  in  a  minute, 
"  Loraine  will  stay  a  week  or  two  here  with 
Mrs.  Allen  before  she  comes  to  us." 

"That  will  give  us  a  little  while  alone 
together  as  a  family  before  Madge  goes  to 
New  York,"  said  Mrs.  Preston,  answering 
the  unspoken  question  she  had  seen  in 
Madge's  eyes. 

"Oh,  am  I  going?"  she  cried,  clasping 
her  hands  in  ecstasy.  "  Now  I  shall  see  the 
world." 

"Not  all  of  it,  I  hope — only  a  bright 
innocent  corner.  There  is  much  world- 


34  THE  SILENT  MAN'S  LEGACY. 

knowledge  that  I  want  you  never  to  get. 
But  I  must  go  to  bed  now  if  I  am  to  hear 
those  remarkable  graduation  essays  read  to- 
morrow." 

The  record  of  the  morrow  would  seem 
like  a  leaf  out  of  the  experience  of  two- 
thirds  of  the  young  girls  who  read  this 
story.  They  will  recall  a  dear  old  school- 
room wearing  its  sunniest  aspect;  June 
flowers  and  rosy-cheeked  girls  in  white ; 
fluttering  hearts  and  tremulous  voices  read- 
ing laboriously-wrought-out  compositions  that 
sounded  so  elegant,  so  wise,  so  much  more 
"  finished  "  than  anything  one  ever  sees  in 
print. 

The  public  exercises  ended,  there  were 
the  affectionate  partings  on  the  stairs  and  in 
the  corridors,  promises  to  write  regularly 
and  "never,  never  forget"  one  another.  It 
is  not  foolish,  but  all  very  sincere,  even  if 
Mary,  who  "  never  expects  to  find  such  a 
friend  hereafter  as  Sarah,"  will  ten  years 
after  wonder  if  she  "  remembers  just  who 
Sarah  was "  when  by  chance  she  hears  the 
latter  has  gone  to  New  Zealand.  If  Mrs. 
Preston  did  playfully  suggest  to  Madge  that 


SCHOOL  REVISITED.  35 

she  should  write  names  on  the  backs  of  the 
one  hundred  and  four  photographs  in  her 
collection,  she  said, 

"  Mrs.  Allen  thinks  Loraine  and  Ruth 
will  be  a  great  deal  to  each  other  in  the  way 
of  help.  Loraine  has  the  stronger  intellect, 
and  Ruth  the  more  insight  and  faith  in  the 
spiritualities." 

"  Ruth  was  always  good,"  said  Madge, 
with  a  little  sigh. 

"And  Madge,  who  long,  long  ago  was 
capable  of  being  naughty,  is  the  best  Madge 
for  her  mother  that  that  mother  could  ask 
when  she  tries  to  be  good,"  laughed  Mrs. 
Preston,  smoothing  the  brown  hair  which 
the  young  girl  had  tumbled  in  her  vigor- 
ous trunk-packing. 

"I  love  Millbridge,  apart  from  the  semi- 
nary," said  Madge,  emptying  the  contents 
of  a  drawer  upon  the  floor.  "  I  wish  we 
lived  here.  There  are  beautiful  old  streets 
that  run  through  the  town  and  out  to  the 
river ;  the  walks  and  the  drives  around  are 
very  picturesque,  and  Mrs.  Allen  says  the 
society  is  far  more  refined  and  intellectual 
than  in  other  places  of  the  same  size.  Fa- 


36  THE  SILENT  MAN'S  LEGACY. 

tlier  ought  to  have  settled  in  a  better  town 
than  ours." 

"  We  had  no  choice,  dear." 

"  But  he  is  not  contented." 

"  He  is  not  unhappy,  but  he  is  dissatisfied 
with  matters  in  the  school.  You  must  be  very 
prudent,  however,  about  saying  anything  to 
make  his  position  insecure.  We  have  no  in- 
come whatever  beyond  his  salary  ;  to  cut 
off  that  would  be  to  leave  us  penniless." 

"  But  father  ought  to  be  on  the  lookout 
for  a  position  elsewhere,  that  such  an  emer- 
gency should  not  surprise  him." 

"Don't  you  suppose  we  reflect  on  that?" 
returned  her  mother,  smiling,  though  her 
tone  was  anxious. 

"  I  will  leave  my  pictures  and  knickknacks 
in  the  room  here,  for  Mrs.  Allen  said  I 
might  keep  this  same  room  when  I  come 
back  as  '  Miss  Preston,  assistant  teacher.' " 

Mrs.  Preston  made  a  little  obeisance  of 
mock-respect,  and  then  they  fell  to  talking  of 
some  changes  that  would  be  made  in  conse- 
quence of  Loraine's  coming  among  them. 

Ruth's  small  trunk  was  already  packed, 
and  about  the  middle  of  the  afternoon  of 


SCHOOL  REVISITED.  37 

the  day  succeeding  the  anniversary  exercises 
Mrs.  Preston  and  the  girls  left  the  seminary. 
They  had  lingered  until  almost  all  the  pupils 
with  their  friends  had  gone  in  order  to  enjoy 
more  time  with  Mrs.  Allen ;  but  when  once 
their  faces  were  turned  homeward,  Madge 
declared  that  her  mother  acted  as  if  she  had 
been  away  weeks  instead  of  three  days. 

The  Professor  and  Johnny  were  waiting 
on  the  platform  when  the  train  arrived ;  and 
if  the  future  "  assistant  teacher  "  tried  to  re- 
strain her  fervent  greeting  within  the  bounds 
of  calm  decorum,  she  yet  showed  her  great 
delight.  Johnny  only  waited  his  turn  to 
hug  her  like  a  vigorous  bear,  while  Ruth, 
holding  fast  her  father's  hand,  started  up 
the  hill,  and  Mrs.  Preston  made  them  all 
laugh  by  saying, 

"  Everything  looks  just  as  natural  as 
ever." 

"  Abby  has  got  you  up  a  regular  wedding- 
feast,  bride's  loaf  and  all,"  explained  Johnny, 
seizing  their  handbags.  "  What  is  more,  she 
has  wrapped  her  stately  form  in  a  brand-new 
blood-red  banner." 

"  Be  quiet,  Johnny  ! — I  need  not  warn  you 


38  THE  SILENT  MAN'S  LEGACY. 

not  to  laugh,  girls,  but  Abby  has  made  her- 
self a  Turkey-red  dress.  It  is  not  very  be- 
coming, but  she  likes  it,  and —  Well,  grand- 
ma says  '  it  is  rather  cheerful-looking  on  a 
cold  day.'" 

"And  Fourth  of  July  will  soon  be  past," 
persisted  Johnny,  striding  ahead  and  soon 
proclaiming,  "  If  there  isn't  grandma  com- 
ing to  meet  us !" 

What  a  happy,  proud  old  lady  grandma 
was,  going  back  on  the  Professor's  arm  after 
she  had  bestowed  the  most  unbounded  ad- 
miration on  her  two  granddaughters,  who 
were  not  in  the  least  danger  of  becoming 
vain  in  consequence  of  knowing  that  she 
considered  them  good,  beautiful  and  learned 
beyond  ordinary  mortals!  Ruth  used  to 
say  Grandma  Grey's  spectacles  grew  rose- 
colored  when  she  looked  at  a  Preston. 

Aftar  supper  all  gathered  in  the  warm 
moonlight  on  the  dining-room  porch,  that 
Abby  might  enjoy  the  girls'  stories  of 
their  school-life  as  she  finished  her  day's 
work — Abby,  who  had  bent  over  their  cra- 
dles and  ministered  to  their  comfort  all  their 
lives  and  more  than  half  her  own. 


SCHOOL  REVISITED.  39 

"  What  do  you  hear  from  Uncle  Henry  ?" 
asked  Ruth.  "  It  seems  queer  not  to  see 
him  poring  over  his  newspaper." 

"  He  has  not  written  us  yet,  but  he  will 
not  write  unless  he  has  something  that  he 
considers  worth  communicating." 

"  Did  he  not  leave  any  message  for  us  ?" 
asked  Ruth. 

"  No,  and  he  did  not  really  bid  one  of  us 
good-bye;  but,  for  all  that,  I  never  felt  so 
sure  that  he  loves  us  as  I  did  feel  that  morn- 
ing he  went  away,"  answered  her  mother. 
"As  he  picked  up  his  valise  he  looked 
back  on  us  from  the  door  with  a  peculiar 
expression,  and  I  saw  tears  in  his  eyes." 

"  Father,  did  he  never  talk  when  he  was 
young?"  exclaimed  Madge. 

"  He  was  always  thoughtful  and  reserved ; 
but  when  he  was  a  young  man  he  went 
from  all  his  friends,  and  was  in  California 
during  the  gold-excitement.  He  made  quite 
a  fortune,  and  lost  it,  but,  over  and  above 
that,  he  had  some  trouble  that  we  never  un- 
derstood. It  disheartened  him  and  set  him 
apart  from  the  world." 

Ruth  was  wondering  what  sort  of  trouble 


40  THE  SILENT  MAN'S  LEGACY. 

it  could  have  been,  when  Madge  began  to 
ask  questions  about  people  and  things  in 
the  village ;  and  so  the  evening  passed,  and 
every  one  was  surprised  when  the  clock 
struck  ten.  It  was  the  signal  for  the  Profes- 
sor to  turn  up  the  lamp,  take  the  worn 
Bible  and  read  the  evening  chapter.  Al- 
though many  disquieting  thoughts  were  in 
the  father's  heart,  it  was  with  very  sincere 
thankfulness  that  he  chose  the  psalm : 
"  Bless  the  Lord,  O  my  soul ;  and  all  that 
is  within  me,  bless  his  holy  name."  The 
return  of  his  two  children  healthy,  joyous 
and  eager  to  make  their  parents  glad  and 
their  home  happier  for  their  coming  made 
him  feel  that  God  was  very  good.  His 
faith  grew  stronger  for  the  days  to  come. 

The  morning  after  the  girls'  return  Madge 
said, 

"  Do  you  not  suppose,  Kuth,  that  we  can 
earn  enough,  before  we  have  taught  a  very 
great  while,  to  make  things  about  the  house 
look  better?  I  never  realized  how  worn 
out  everything  has  grown ;  every  room 
needs  painting,  papering  and  refurnishing. 


SCHOOL  REVISITED.  41 

Mother  keeps  everything  exquisitely  neat 
and  cheerful,  but  how  threadbare  all  will 
seem  to  Loraine !  Her  chamber  at  Mrs.  Al- 
len's is  finer,  with  its  curtains  and  pictures, 
than  our  parlor." 

"Yes,  of  course,  but  that  need  not  give 
us  any  trouble  while  we  cannot  help  our- 
selves. Just  as  soon  as  we  can  we  will  do 
our  best  to  beautify  the  place.  Don't  let 
mother  see  that  we  think  the  house  in  any 
way  shabby." 

"  I  will  try  not  to.  But  how  faded  the 
carpets  are !  The  pattern  has  gone  entirely." 

"All  the  better.  The  huge  blue  roses 
were  ugly ;  now  the  dull  tint  is  quite  aes- 
thetic." 

"  Have  you  made  a  vow  never  to  grumble, 
Ruth?" 

"  No,  but  I  will  tell  you  why  I  do  not 
feel  so  much  inclined  to  worry  over  the 
contents  of  this  old  house  as  I  otherwise 
might.  Before  that  summer  three  years  ago 
when  I  went  abroad  with  Cousin  Jane,  I 
used  to  think  that  elegant  surroundings  and 
rich  dresses  would  make  me  happier  than  I 
could  be  without  them." 


42  THE  SILENT  MAN'S  LEGACY. 

"And  so  they  would,"  put  in  Madge 
stoutly. 

"  I  am  not  sure  of  that,  for  you  know  I 
was  often  with  the  Merritts — who  had  every- 
thing money  could  buy — and  not  one  of  them 
was  contented.  Mabel  used  to  say  she  was 
tired  of  everything  and  everybody." 

"  That  was  because  her  father  and  mother 
were  ignorant,  common  sort  of  people  and 
Mabel  had  no  'mental  resources/  as  Mrs. 
Allen  would  say." 

"  Well,  take  Loraine  Faye  herself  for  an 
example.  She  has  a  better  intellect  than 
either  you  or  I  have,  and  the  utmost  refine- 
ment ;  she  has  been  very  rich,  and  has  now 
enough  to  gratify  almost  all  her  wishes ; 
but  Loraine  is  not  so  happy  as  we  are." 

"  Why  is  she  not  ?  That  does  puzzle 
me." 

"I  think  one  reason  is  that  a  Christian 
father  and  mother  very  early  taught  us 
what  to  believe  and  all  along  made  us 
believe  what  we  had  been  taught.  We 
know  we  can  trust  them,  and  where  they 
are  the  place  will  be  pleasant  if  there  are 
no  carpets  at  all." 


SCHOOL  REVISITED.  43 

"  Good  for  you  !  I  will  not  grumble  one 
bit  more ;  I  don't  want  to  do  it  now,  when  I 
see  the  sun  streaming  in  and  catch  that  faint 
delicious  odor  of  Abby's  breakfast-cakes. 
How  that  girl  knows  every  weak  spot  in 
our  appetites,  Ruth !" 

"'Weak'!"  laughed  Ruth.  "She  never 
would  apply  that  adjective  to  any  appetites 
that  we  ever  possessed.  There  goes  the 
bell." 


CHAPTER    III. 

A    BLOW  AND    A    LETTER. 

"  All  is  of  God  that  is  and  is  to  be, 
And  God  is  good.     Let  this  suffice  us  still, 
Resting  in  childlike  trust  upon  His  will 
Who  moves  to  his  great  ends  unthwarted  by  the  ill." 

WHITTIER. 

IN  the  academy  of  which  Professor  Pres- 
ton was  principal  was  a  girls'  department, 
at  the  head  of  which  was  a  certain  Miss 
Elder.  If  she  had  been  as  true-hearted  as 
she  was  clear-headed,  she  might  have  been 
an  estimable  character.  She  saw  plainly  the 
mismanagement  of  the  trustees  and  despised 
them  for  their  incapacity  and  niggardly 
measures,  but  so  long  as  she  was  not  de- 
frauded of  her  salary  she  cared  little  for  her 
scholars.  It  had  irritated  her  exceedingly 
when  the  Preston  girls  were  removed  from 
her  care  and  sent  to  Millbridge.  The  Pro- 
fessor, perceiving  this  fact,  took  pains  to  tell 


A  BLOW  AND  A   LETTER.  45 

her  that  Mrs.  Allen  was  an  old-time  friend 
of  his  wife  who  would  permit  Madge  to  pay 
her  way  by  assistance  given  in  household 
affairs,  that  Ruth  was  sent  by  her  uncle 
Henry,  and  that  both  girls  were  anxious 
to  fit  themselves  for  teachers. 

Miss  Elder  saw  perfectly  well  that  it 
would  have  been  a  disadvantage  to  keep 
the  girls  longer  in  the  academy,  and  for 
personal  reasons  she  was  glad  to  have  them 
gone;  but  she  continuously  misrepresented 
the  matter  whenever  she  spoke  of  it  to  out- 
siders. Did  Professor  Preston  consider  that 
he  was  furthering  the  interests  of  the  acad- 
emy and  recommending  it  to  other  parents 
by  sending  his  own  daughters  to  a  school 
sixty  miles  distant?  She  dropped  this  ques- 
tion into  the  ears  of  the  trustees,  and  with 
it  certain  remarks  of  the  principal,  which, 
quoted  only  to  be  misapplied,  could  not  do 
otherwise  than  help  to  make  those  individ- 
uals disaffected  toward  and  ready  to  become 
unjust  to  the  Professor. 

So  far  as  a  knowledge  of  text-books  was 
concerned,  Miss  Elder  was  an  educated  per- 
son, but  she  was  conscious  of  lacking  all 


46  THE  SILENT  MAN'S  LEGACY. 

that  culture  which  she  erroneously  fancied 
was  the  result  of  wealth  and  luxury.  Reared 
in  an  unlovely  and  unchristian  home,  she 
looked  back  on  and  hated  the  poverty  out 
of  which  she  had  risen  by  her  will  and 
hard  study.  When  she  came  to  know  the 
Prestons  and  found  them  as  poor  as  she  had 
ever  been,  it  was  a  most  unpleasant  surprise 
that  they  had  all  the  gentle  ease  in  any  so- 
ciety, the  winning  grace  that  made  them 
everywhere  welcome,  the  dignity  that  is  sure 
to  be  respected, — everything,  in  short,  that 
she  admired  and  secretly  knew  that  she 
lacked.  It  made  them  all  the  objects  of  her 
jealousy  and  dislike.  Class  distinctions  were 
not  sharply  defined  in  the  little  town,  and, 
although  there  were  three  or  four  very 
wealthy  families,  the  "aristocracy"  was 
rather  one  of  moral  worth  and  social  good- 
breeding  than  of  the  merely  rich.  It  always 
angered  Miss  Elder  that  Mrs.  Preston  and 
her  daughters  were  the  chosen  friends  of 
people  who  gave  her  nothing  more  than  a 
civil  notice  when  she  met  them  by  chance. 
Madge  in  her  happy,  busy  life  had  for- 
gotten Miss  Elder's  existence;  Ruth  only 


A   BLOW  AND  A   LETTER.  47 

remembered  her  quite  compassionately  as 
one  who  seemed  soured  and  discontented. 
Both  would  have  been  astonished  to  know 
that  all  the  spring  before  their  return  Miss 
Elder  had  pictured  them  coming  back  as 
young  ladies,  prettier,  more  attractive,  than 
ever,  to  receive  attention  which  she  never 
enjoyed.  She  half  convinced  herself  of 
injustice  done  her,  although  by  whom  it 
might  have  puzzled  her  to  tell.  Jealousy  is 
never  quiescent  in  a  nature  like  this.  Miss 
Elder  did  not  deliberately  plan  to  injure  the 
Preston  family,  but  she  longed  to  "take  them 
down." 

About  the  time  the  Professor  was  laboring 
with  the  trustees  to  induce  them  to  right 
some  wrong  and  make  some  needed  changes, 
Miss  Elder  learned  of  a  teacher  who  wanted 
a  position  like  that  held  by  Professor  Pres- 
ton. He  was  near  her  own  age,  more  con- 
genial as  a  friend  and  unmarried.  In  a  way 
that  could  scarcely  be  called  straightforward 
she  possessed  herself  of  the  knowledge  that 
he  would  accept  a  smaller  salary  than  that 
now  reluctantly  given  by  the  academy  trus- 
tees. Before  the  term  closed  several  of  these 


48  THE  SILENT  MAN'S  LEGACY. 

last-named  gentlemen  began  to  wonder  if  a 
man  without  a  family  would  not  be  "  more 
manageable,"  less  "  notional,"  freer  to  devote 
"  his  time  and  energies  to  the  school,"  which 
certainly  was  running  down. 

Ruth  had  been  home  about  two  weeks 
when  she  went  out  one  bright  morning  for  a 
call  on  some  of  her  young  friends  whom  she 
had  not  seen  since  she  returned  from  Mill- 
bridge.  She  wore  a  light  cotton  dress  that 
cost  but  ten  cents  a  yard  and  was  made  by 
her  own  skillful  fingers.  That  it  was  pretty 
enough  for  a  princess  when  she  had  thrust  a 
bunch  of  roses  in  her  belt  she  did  not  stop 
to  consider,  but  Miss  Elder,  meeting  her  at 
a  street-crossing,  was  quite  certain  that  Ruth 
thought  herself  wonderfully  dainty  and  fine. 
There  was  coarse  cruelty  in  the  woman's 
sudden  impulse  to  take  the  happy  light  out 
of  the  girl's  eyes  and  send  her  home  crushed, 
but  first  she  joined  her,  talking  of  the  day 
and  of  some  bit  of  town-news : 

"I  suppose,  now  that  you  and  Madge 
have  finished  your  education,  you  will  settle 
down  to  enjoy  life  ?" 

"  Oh,  Miss  Elder !     A  teacher  talk  of  our 


A  BLOW  AND  A  LETTER.  49 

finishing  our  education  !  Don't  think  us  so 
silly  as  all  that.  And,  as  for  enjoying  life, 
we  always  have  done  it.  I  can't  imagine 
how  two  girls  ever  could  have  been  happier," 
replied  Euth,  feeling  that  she  would  like  to 
"hop  and  skip"  down  the  quiet  street  as 
she  had  done  a  few  years  since. 

"Will  you  continue  to  live  in  the  vil- 
lage?" asked  Miss  Elder,  searching  Euth's 
face  with  her  sharp  little  eyes. 

"  Well,  I  don't  know  yet.  I  would  like 
to  begin  at  once,  as  Madge  will,  to  teach  for 
Mrs.  Allen ;  but  if  I  am  wanted  at  home, 
why  then  '  there  is  no  place  like  home.' " 

"  Yes,  and  your  father  has  reached  an 
age  when  it  is  pleasant  to  give  up  moving 
from  pillar  to  post." 

"  Yes.  Of  course  there  is  never  any 
question  of  father's  going  away  from  here," 
returned  Euth,  with  a  vague  idea  that  Miss 
Elder's  remarks  had  no  force. 

"  Oh,  indeed !  It  is  very  nice,  I  should 
say,  in  that  case,  that  his  circumstances  are 
such  that  he  need  not  go  away." 

If  it  had  been  defiant,  keen-witted  Madge 
instead  of  Euth  Preston  who  simply  turned 


50  THE  SILENT  MAN'S  LEGACY. 

a  sweet,  bewildered  face  toward  Miss  Elder, 
the  latter  would  have  been  less  merciful. 
She  buttoned  her  glove  with  elaborate  care 
and  tried  to  make  her  voice  sound  sympa- 
thetic as  she  went  on: 

"  Will  you  be  good  enough,  Ruth,  to  say 
to  your  father  that  the  suddenness  of  this 
decision  of  the  trustees  was  quite — or,  that 
is,  almost — as  much  a  matter  of  surprise  to 
me  as  no  doubt  it  has  been  to  him  ?  Still, 
your  father  has  been  so  long  dissatisfied  with 
the  way  things  were  going  at  the  academy 
that  he  must  be  relieved  to  be  thus  freed  from 
any  more  responsibility.  The  trustees  were 
forced  to  act  promptly,  for  this  Mr.  Sedge- 
wick  applied  for  the  position  of  principal 
under  the  impression  that  your  father  meant 
to  resign,  and  at  the  same  time  he  said  they 
must  decide  at  once,  because  he — Mr.  Sedge- 
wick — was  about  going  West  if  he  was  not 
called  here  at  one  hundred  a  year  less  than 
your  father  has  always  received.  He  is 
probably  not  half  so  scholarly  as  your 
father,  but  young  men  have  so  much  energy  ! 
New  brooms,  you  know ;"  and,  out  of  breath 
with  the  information  imparted,  Miss  Elder 


A   SLOW  AND  A  LETTER.  51 

tilted  her  sun-umbrella  to  one  side  just 
enough  to  peep  at  Ruth. 

The  young  girl's  face  was  as  colorless  as 
the  white  rose  that  dropped  out  of  her  hand. 
She  did  not  gratify  Miss  Elder's  curiosity  by 
an  outbreak  of  grief,  surprise  or  indigna- 
tion ;  only,  after  a  long  pause,  she  said  quiet- 
ly, though  her  heart  fluttered  like  a  wounded 
bird, 

"  I  should  suppose  that  father  would  un- 
derstand the  whole  matter,  as  no  doubt  he 
must ;  for  surely  the  trustees  would  not  be 
dishonorable  enough  to  engage  any  young 
man  to  accept  a  position  still  held  by  an 
older  man  who  had  filled  it  honorably  for 
years." 

"  Oh,  no  doubt  your  father  comprehends 
the  situation.  We  have  known  for  a  long 
time  that  only  the  interests  of  the  school 
kept  him  from  resigning.  Remember  me  to 
Madge.  Good-morning !" 

Ruth  greeted  several  acquaintances  who 
passed  after  Miss  Elder  parted  from  her, 
and  she  tried  to  calm  herself  to  think  what 
all  this  meant.  It  did  not  seem  possible  that 
her  father  could  have  lost  his  position.  He 


52  THE  SILENT  MAN'S  LEGACY. 

could  not  have  known  it  at  breakfast-time, 
for  he  spoke  of  forming  a  new  class  in  his 
department. 

Ruth  was  in  no  mood  for  visiting,  so,  turn- 
ing off  by  a  side-street,  she  made  a  circuit  to- 
ward home  again.  Coming  near  the  house, 
she  saw  Mr.  Lyon  and  Mr.  Barker  just  going 
out  of  the  gate.  They  were  the  two  trus- 
tees least  in  harmony  with  her  father.  Mr. 
Lyon  was  an  illiterate,  pompous  man  with  a 
secret  contempt  for  any  other  man  not  in 
"  business  "  and  making  money ;  Mr.  Barker 
was  a  gnarled  and  knotty  individual  fully 
persuaded  that  the  arts  of  life  were  in  per- 
fection when  he  came  of  age,  and  that  im- 
provements since  were  new-fangled  innova- 
tions "  to  be  frowned  down."  A  school,  like 
a  church,  ought,  in  his  opinion,  to  be  "  run  " 
at  the  least  possible  expense  to  all  con- 
cerned. 

Ruth  hurried  into  the  house,  and,  cross- 
ing the  hall,  came  on  her  mother  and  her 
grandmother  chatting  together  with  placid 
faces. 

"  Who  went  out  as  you  came  in,  Ruth  ?" 
asked  her  mother. 


.  A  SLOW  AND  A  LETTER.  53 

"  Two  of  the  trustees." 

Something  in  Ruth's  tone  made  Mrs.  Pres- 
ton anxious.  She  rose,  and  Ruth  followed 
her  into  the  Professor's  room.  He  sat  at  his 
table  mechanically  turning  a  paper-weight 
over  and  over. 

"  Has  anything  happened,  Philip  ?"  asked 
his  wife. 

"  Yes ;  I  have  lost  my  place,  and  have 
nothing  to  live  on  when  what  is  left  of  last 
year's  salary  is  spent.  A  new  man  is  al- 
ready engaged.  I  have  been  meanly  dealt 
with,  but  I  am  not  exercised  over  hurt  feel- 
ings ;  the  appalling  question  is,  What  will  we 
put  into  our  mouths  next  winter  ?" 

Mrs.  Preston's  heart  felt  all  at  once  like 
a  leaden  ball,  but  after  a  little  gasp  as  if 
for  breath  she  caught  hold  of  the  curtain- 
cord  and  rolled  up  the  shade,  disclosing  a 
stretch  of  the  bluest  summer  sky  : 

"Next  winter  is  not  here,  Philip.  We 
have  enough  to  live  on  until  then ;  in  the 
mean  time,  we  know  that  God  is  'gracious 
and  full  of  compassion ' — that  for  his  chil- 
dren 'there  ariseth  light  in  the  darkness.' 
We  must  trust,  and  not  be  afraid  of  evil  tid- 


54  THE  SILENT  MAN'S  LEGACY. 

ings.  There  are  far  better  positions  than 
the  one  you  have  had,  and  you  are  qualified 
for  the  best." 

"  The  public  is  not  so  partial  as  a  wife  in 
judging  of  a  man's  capacity.  Younger  men 
are  far  more  sought  after."  Catching  sight 
of  the  distress  on  Ruth's  face,  he  continued 
in  his  usual  tone,  "We  will  not  worry.  I  am 
well,  and  certainly  not  superannuated.  It 
seems  to  me  that  we  had  better  not  tell  grand- 
mother of  this  just  now;  it  will  not  look  so 
dark  after  a  while,  I  trust." 

"  You  are  always  thoughtful  of  dear 
mother,"  said  Mrs.  Preston,  gratefully.  She 
knew  how  sorry  the  old  lady  would  be  to 
reflect  that  she  was  a  burden  on  them,  and 
that  for  this  reason  the  Professor  would 
spare  her  all  he  could. 

Madge's  indignation  knew  no  bounds 
when  Ruth  found  her  up  stairs  and  told  her 
the  news,  but  after  she  had  freed  her  mind  in 
regard  to  the  trustees'  meanness  she  sobered 
down  to  consider  what  seemed  to  her  the 
family's  own  unexpectedly-sudden  downfall 
into  abject  poverty: 

"  Why,  Ruth,  father's  salary,  you  know. 


A  BLOW  AND  A   LETTER.  55 

usually  holds  out  only  through  the  summer, 
or  at  the  most  till  Thanksgiving." 

"That  is  what  so  dismays  him.  But  I 
have  no  doubt  that  we  can  be  a  little  more 
economical  and  make  it  last  longer  this  year. 
We  can  both  go  back  to  the  seminary  and 
spend  almost  nothing  of  what  we  earn  there 
on  ourselves." 

"  What  shall  we  do  now  about  letting  Lo- 
raine  come  ?" 

"Mother  has  been  considering,  and  she 
says  that  she  can  come  just  the  same.  The 
ready  money'  she  will  pay  for  her  board  will 
be  some  help." 

Madge  had  been  giving  her  wardrobe  a 
thorough  inspection  and  sorrowfully  noting 
its  many  deficiencies  in  view  of  the  visit  to 
New  York.  She  had  not  had  any  idea, 
however,  of  making  her  sentiments  known, 
and  thereby  troubling  her  mother  or  Ruth  ; 
now  all  such  petty  annoyances  were  swal- 
lowed up  in  what  seemed  the  general  disas- 
ter. Putting  away  a*box  of  gloves  and  rib- 
bons with  no  more  care  about  their  worn 
condition,  she  said  thoughtfully, 

."  I  don't  believe  I  will  go  to  New  York. 


56  THE  SILENT  MAN'S  LEGACY. 

How  can  I  enjoy  myself  when  I  know  you 
all  have  this  trouble  hanging  over  you  ?" 

"Oh,  you  must  remember  that  father 
will  go  right  about  getting  another  position, 
and  mother  never  broods  nor  worries  over 
family  misfortunes  that  she  cannot  possibly 
help ;  if  they  can  be  gotten  rid  of,  she  goes 
about  doing  it  at  once.  So  don't  think  of 
staying  just  to  mingle  your  tears  with  ours." 

Ruth  tried  to  laugh,  but  it  was  a  doleful 
little  attempt,  and  Madge  went  on : 

"  No,  but  I  could  stay  and  be  so  ridiculous 
that  you  would  have  to  laugh  when  you  felt 
inclined  to  weep.  I  have  always  been  the 
selfish  one  in  this  family.  I  wish  you  were 
going  to  New  York." 

"  Well,  in  that  case,  Madge,  I  will  do  the 
very  next  thing  to  going.  I  had  an  idea 
this  morning  whereby  you  will  have  a  con- 
stant reminder  of  me.  I  suppose  you  know 
that  you  have  not  many  fine  feathers  ?" 

"No,  but  then  I  shall  tell  Cousin  Jane 
that — that  I  am  moulting,"  laughed  Madge, 
quite  merrily. 

"  You  must  take  my  white  dress — which 
is  different  from  yours — and  my  pale-blue 


A   BLOW  AND  A  LETTER.  57 

gingham.  How  fortunate  that  you  can  wear 
blue !  Some  brunettes  are  dreadful  in  blue. 
And  I  shall  not  need  my  lace  scarf — " 

"  Don't,  Ruth,  trouble  yourself  to  tell  me 
in  detail.  I  will  just  carry  off  everything 
you  have  that  I  can  possibly  use,  and  you 
can  borrow  something  of  grandmother  for 
Sundays,  and  weekdays  you  need  not  show 
yourself  at  all." 

"Don't  be  headstrong,  Madge.  I  really 
don't  need  to  use  those  things  here,  where 
everybody  knows  me,  and — " 

"  Not  so  much  as  one  pocket-handker- 
chief of  yours  will  I  take,  Ruth  Preston,  so 
now!  You  are  self-sacrificing  enough  to 
pluck  out  your  eyes  and  go  without  your 
skin  if  I  could  avail  myself  of  them." 

"  Mother  will  make  you  come  to  terms," 
said  Ruth,  nodding  her  golden  head. 

After  that  both  girls  were  silent  a  long 
time,  meditating  on  academy  affairs.  Sud- 
denly Madge  broke  out : 

"  I  believe  that  detestable  Miss  Elder  is  at 
the  bottom  of  this.  Father  never  would 
hear  my  complaints  about  her,  but  she  was 
as  deceitful  as  deceit  itself  when  I  was  in 


58  THE  SILENT  MAN'S  LEGACY. 

school ;  I  have  heard  her  tell  positive  un- 
truths. And  she  never  liked  me,  and  I 
could  not  endure  her." 

"  Probably  that  was  just  the  reason  that 
father  thought  you  did  not  do  her  justice." 

"She  is  a  snake  in  the  grass,  Ruth,  and 
you  know  it." 

Ruth  was  silenced,  for  she  did  know 
that  when  in  Miss  Elder's  presence  she  was 
always  on  her  guard,  always  distrustful  of 
that  lady's  politeness  or  discomfited  by  her 
rudeness.  Moreover,  she  could  not  with  all 
her  charity  persuade  herself  that  Miss  Elder 
had  not  worn  an  air  of  ill-concealed  triumph 
that  very  day. 

Mrs.  Preston  had  not  told  Abby  of  the 
Professor's  loss  of  his  school.  The  faithful 
creature  could  not  be  more  careful  of  the 
family  interests  than  she  already  was.  Still, 
Abby  heard  the  Professor  sigh  or  saw  him 
sit  abstracted  throughout  some  absurd  story 
of  Madge's,  while  Mrs.  Preston  was  un- 
usually pale  and  quiet,  and  she  said  to  her- 
self, 

"Something  more  than  common  is  up.     I 


A  BLOW  AND  A  LETTER.  59 

had  better  take  all  the  work  I  can  off  Mis' 
Preston  and  make  my  part  of  the  house  an 
cheerful  as  I  can.  Surprises  in  the  vittals 
line  are  sort  of  pleasant;  I'll  make  'em 
something  nice  they  haven't  had  lately.  I 
wonder  if  I  dare  buy  some  of  that  lovely 
flowered  chintz  down  town  and  cover  grand- 
ma's rocking-chair?  If  I  only  dast!  But 
Mis'  Preston  has  just  downright  forbid  me 
spending  my  money  for  one  of  the  family. 
It's  positively  tyrannical  in  her.  All  of  'em 
are  for  ever  doing  for  one  another,  and  I 
have  got  to  be  the  only  pig  in  the  whole 
lot." 

"  Whose  pig  is  in  whose  lot  ?"  asked 
Johnny,  appearing  in  the  kitchen  door. 

"  Oh,  it  is  an  allegorical  pig,"  said  Abby, 
blushing  at  being  caught  soliloquizing  so 
audibly. 

"  Where  is  he  on  exhibition  ?" 

"Oh,  go  along  and  pick  me  up  some 
chips,  Johnny ;  my  fire  is  going  out." 

"'Allegorical  pig' !  You  must  be  putting 
him  into  a  poein  instead  of  a  pen,  and  I 
bet  the  poem  is  for  the  widower  Simpk — " 

As    Abby    rapidly    approached   Johnny 


60  THE  SILENT  MAN'S  LEGACY. 

with  the  potato-masher,  which  she  chanced 
to  be  washing,  he  retreated,  but  a  moment 
after  he  called, 

"  Oh,  say,  Abby  !  Put  down  your  '  weep- 
ins  of  war '  and  I  will  give  you  a  letter." 

"Who  for?" 

"Say,  'For  whom?'  elegantly  and  cor- 
rectly, Abby,  and  I  will  say  tenderly,  'For 
thee,  from  thine  own  Simpkins.'  Say, 
Abby !  after  all  these  years  you  will  have 
him,  will  you  not?" 

Abby  calmly  began  washing  a  frying-pan  ; 
she  had  not  received  half  a  dozen  letters  in 
her  whole  lifetime. 

"  Honestly,  now,  Abby,  I  have  got  a  letter 
for  you,  and  it  is  directed  in  a  handwriting 
like  Uncle  Henry's,"  said  Johnny,  entering 
the  kitchen  and  holding  out  the  yellow  en- 
velope, which  Abby  took  suspiciously,  turned 
around  curiously,  and  appeared  to  give  up 
as  a  puzzle  quite  too  hard  for  her. 

"  Open  it,  why  don't  you  ?" 

"  Would  you  ?  Maybe  'tain't  for  me. 
I  don't  know  no  men  living  out  of  town, 
and  long  as  your  uncle  Henry  didn't  speak 
to  me  over  and  above  once  a  week,  nor  to 


A  BLOW  AND  A  LETTER.  61 

anybody  else  as  often,  it  ain't  any  wise  likely 
he  is  going  to  correspond." 

"  All  the  same,  you  can't  read  it  until  you 
open  it,  Abby." 

"  Seems  sort  of  a  liberty,"  she  remarked, 
laboriously  prying  the  envelope  apart  with  a 
dinner-knife. 

Abby  made  out  the  "Dear  Abby,"  and 
then  scowled,  squinted  and  worked  her  large 
mouth  in  a  desperate  physical  attempt  to 
take  in  the  contents  by  some  process  other 
than  the  natural  one: 

"  I  never  could  read  writing  that  I  didn't 
write  myself,  and  not  that  after  it  had  stood 
long.  Johnny,  you  just  read  this  document 
for  me." 

Nothing  loth — for  he  was  naturally  curi- 
ous— Johnny  took  the  letter,  exclaiming 
immediately, 

"  Well,  it  is  from  Uncle  Henry." 

"  Gran'ther  Grievous !  How  queer !  Do 
hurry,  Johnny;  you  are  a  regular  poke." 

Thus  entreated,  Johnny  read  : 

"  DEAR  ABBY  :  I  am  sick ;  I  may  die. 
While  I  am  alive  I  need  care.  I  send  mon- 


62  THE  SILENT  MAN'S  LEGACY. 

ey  for  your  expenses,  and  when  you  are  here 
will  pay  you  ten  dollars  a  week.  Philip  will 
tell  you  just  how  to  get  here,  and  will  know 
that  I  want  you,  and  no  one  else.  I  am  in  a 
small  town  of  rough  men,  and  no  women 
that  I  want  near  me.  I  shall  leave  enough 
money  to  pay  your  way  back  if  I  die. 

"  HENRY  PRESTOX." 

There  was  added  the  name  of  the  town, 
but  Abby  paid  no  attention.  She  was 
speechless  with  amazement  at  the  prospect 
before  her,  and  at  the  same  time  smitten 
with  sincere  grief  at  the  thought  of  the 
queer,  undemonstrative  man  sick  and  suffer- 
ing among  strangers.  She  had  always  cared 
for  him  with  the  feeling  that  he  was  virtu- 
ally incapable  of  caring  for  his  own  comfort; 
she  had  believed  that  she  came  as  near  un- 
derstanding him  as  any  one  could  under- 
stand a  man  who,  as  she  had  more  than 
once  declared,  "  had  just  locked  himself  up 
and  thrown  away  the  key  to  keep  out  the 
neighbors." 

"Shall  I  show  it  to  mother?"  asked 
Johnny,  waving  the  letter  before  Abby's 


A   BLOW  AND  A   LETTER.  63 

big  green  eyes,  that  seemed  fixed  on  va- 
cancy. 

Abby  nodded,  and  then,  dropping  her 
towel  in  the  dish-pan,  followed  close  behind 
the  boy  into  the  wide  old  hall,  where  the 
family  sat  sewing  and  chatting,  with  the  sun 
shining  through  the  open  door  and  the  per- 
fume of  roses  creeping  in  at  the  window. 

Every  one  was  as  shocked  and  surprised 
as  Abby  herself  had  been. 

"  Poor  Henry !  I  wish  I  had  kept  him 
here.  I  tried  to  prove  to  him  that  he  was 
too  feeble  to  travel,  but  he  was  determined  to 
go,"  said  the  Professor.  "  What  will  he  do  if 
his  money  gives  out?  In  a  place  like  that 
he  has  no  friends ;  you  see  that  by  his  send- 
ing for  Abby  to  nurse  him." 

"  I  am  very  sorry  too,"  said  Mrs.  Preston. 
*'  But  you  must  not  worry  about  his  means  ; 
he  told  me  plainly  once  that  he  had  as  much 
as  a  thousand  dollars  a  year  and  laid  up  some 
of  it.  How  else  could  he  have  done  for  the 
girls  as  he  has  ?  He  must  have  felt  sorely 
in  need  of  home  comforts,  or  he  would  not 
have  sent  to  Abby  to  go  away-  to  Colorado. — 
What  do  you  say,  Abby  ?" 


64  THE  SILENT  MAN'S  LEGACY. 

"Do  they  talk  English  there?  and  if  I 
get  sea-sick  paddling  around  on  Sneider's 
Pond,  what  will  I  be  on  the  ocean  ?" 

"  Why,  Abby,  don't  you  know  where  Col- 
orado is  ?"  began  Madge ;  but  Abby  hastily 
interposed : 

"  Yes,  yes !  I'm  so  excited !  Of  course  I 
know  it  is  'way,  'way  out  West,  among  the 
Mormons  and  cowboys  and  wild  Injins. 
Goodness  me  !  But  I'll  go  all  the  same.  I 
can  start  on  the  three-o'clock  train  if  some- 
body sprinkles  them  clothes  on  the  line. 
But  how  will  you  ever  get  along  with  the 
work?" 

"The  girls  will  help  me,  Abby.  And 
now  let  us  get  your  trunk  packed. — Philip, 
find  out  exactly  how  Abby  is  to  go — all  the 
changes — and  make  it  plain  to  her." 

Mrs.  Preston  was  on  her  feet  as  she  spoke, 
and  by  the  time  the  Professor  had  started 
for  the  railroad-station  to  make  the  neces- 
sary inquiries  and  arrangements  every- 
body was  at  work.  Madge  went  to  the 
kitchen,  where,  with  Johnny's  help,  she 
tried  to  take  .  Abby's  place ;  grandma  got 
together  everything  that  she  fancied  a  sick 


A  BLOW  AND  A  LETTER.  65 

person  might  use;  Mrs.  Preston  decided 
what  was  to  go,  and  Ruth  and  Abby  packed 
in  with  the  latter's  clothing  old  linen,  jelly- 
jars,  mustard-plasters,  flannel,  herbs,  con- 
densed beef,  camphor,  tea,  cologne,  and  so 
many  other  articles  that  on  contemplating 
them  Abby  remarked, 

"  If  that  trunk  smashes,  they'll  take  me 
for  a  sample-peddler.  However,  there  may 
not  be  one  thing  too  many,  and  I  only  wish 
I  had  a  hop-pillow  besides.  If  that  man  is 
on  his  back  and  weak,  he  can't  help  himself 
this  time  from  having  proper  care  taken  of 
him,  and  I  shall  do  it,  whether  or  no." 

"  Do  you  think  he  will  die,  mother  ?" 
asked  Ruth. 

"  If  this  is  only  an  acute  attack  of  his 
old  malady',  he  may  not  be  dangerously  ill 
He  has  a  good  constitution,  and  has  always 
lived  a  simple,  healthful  life." 

"  Yes,  he  was  a  blameless  creature,  and  he 
will  have  few  idle  words  to  give  an  account 
of,"  said  grandmother,  gently. 

"If  I  was  a  betting  character,  I'd  be 
willing  to  bet  a  good  deal  that  he  hain't  said 
'  Boo  !'  to  one  of  them  natives  since  he  got 

5 


66  THE  SILENT  MAN'S  LEGACY. 

there,"  put  in  Abby,  rising,  red- faced  and 
excited,  from  her  efforts  in  the  trunk. 

"  But,  for  all  he  is  so  silent,  I  missed  him 
after  he  had  gone.  He  is  a  real  gentleman 
at  heart,"  said  Mrs.  Preston. 

"A  Preston  would  have  to  be  that,  it 
seems  to  me,"  commented  the  old  lady. 

The  Professor  appeared  in  the  door  too 
late  for  the  compliment,  and  began  slowly  to 
explain  to  Abby  every  move  that  she  must 

make  until  she  reached  S Forks,  the  little 

town  where  his  brother  was  ill.  She  looked 
decidedly  stupid,  standing  with  half-open 
mouth  and  clenched  fists,  but  she  took  in 
every  word.  If  Abby  lacked  experience, 
she  had  an  abundant  store  of  common  sense, 
and  her  intuitions  of  character  were  some- 
times surprising,  for  she  seemed  so  trans- 
parent herself. 

When  Mr.  Preston  had  finished  these  in- 
structions, Abby  asked  a  few  questions,  and 
then  said, 

"  If  I  get  him  on  his  feet,  I  shall  bring 
him  home,  no  matter  what  he  says  to  the 
contrary.  But  perhaps  you  had  better 
advise  me  what  to  do  in  case  of  his  death." 


A  SLOW  AND  A  LETTER.  67 

The  Professor's  face  was  very  sad  as  he 
called  to  his  wife,  and  together  they  coun- 
seled Abby  to  the  best  of  their  ability. 

"  If  I  could,  I  would  go  to  Henry  myself ; 
but  how  can  I  ?  Abby  is  really  of  far  more 
use  to  him  than  his  own  brother  could  be, 
and  every  penny  we  have  we  need  for  those 
dependent  on  us.  The  journey  there  and 
back  is  very  expensive,  as  you  see  by  this 
check  for  Abby's  expenses." 

The  Professor's  tone  was  sad,  and  Mrs. 
Preston  tried  to  speak  hopefully  of  Henry's 
recovery. 

In  less  than  an  hour  Abby  had  gone,  and 
the  members  of  the  family,  coming  together 
again,  could  hardly  realize  what  had  hap- 
pened since  dinner. 

"  Now,  mother,"  said  Madge,  "  you  will 
agree  with  me  this  time  that  I  had  better 
not  go  to  New  York.  What  will  you  do 
without  Abby  unless  every  one  of  us  helps 
about  the  work?" 

Mrs.  Preston  meditated  a  while  in  silence 
before  she  said, 

"  No,  dear ;  it  is  decidedly  better  for  you 
to  go.  There  is  no  loss  without  some  gain. 


68  THE  SILENT  MAN'S  LEGACY. 

The  question  of  Abby's  wages  was  just  now 
beginning  to  trouble  me.  She  never  would 
have  left  me  because  we  were  poor,  and  I  could 
not  take  her  work  without  paying  her  for  it. 
To  get  in  debt  is  what  we  must  avoid.  This 
absence  of  hers  for  a  while  settles  that  diffi- 
culty. Again,  the  smaller  the  family,  the 
less  work.  Ruth  is  well,  grandma  will  al- 
ways insist  on  doing  something  to  help,  and 
we  can  get  on  nicely.  I  prefer  to  have- you 
go,  Madge." 

For  the  next  few  days  everybody  had 
more  than  usual  to  do,  and  perhaps  it  was 
just  as  well.  The  Professor  began  a  corre- 
spondence with  various  agencies,  hoping  by 
some  means  to  secure  a  position  for  the 
coming  school-year.  Mrs.  Preston  was  busy 
apportioning  Abby's  duties  that  no  one 
might  be  overtaxed. 

"Is  it  not  strange  that  we  hear  nothing 
from  the  Raynors  ?"  asked  Ruth  one  after- 
noon. "  I  supposed  Cousin  John  would  be 
here  the  first  of  this  week." 

"Yes,  it  is  queer.  And  I  wonder  why 
Loraine  does  not  write  and  tell  when  we  are 


A  BLOW  AND  A   LETTER.  69 

to  expect  her?  though  she  may  come  now 
any  day,  without  giving  warning,"  returned 
Madge. 

"  That  is  equally  true  of  Mr.  Kaynor," 
said  her  mother ;  "  so  leave  nothing  undone 
that  should  be  done  before  you  go  away." 

"I  could  start  at  a  half  hour's  notice, 
mother,  and  I  can  think  of  nothing  but  a 
call  on  Mary  Parker.  I  might  go  there  this 
very  afternoon. — Will  you  go  with  me, 
Euth  ?" 

Ruth  made  a  remarkable  grimace,  which 
Madge  understood  at  once  as  a  refusal  and  a 
reason  not  to  be  openly  expressed.  Ruth 
wanted  to  finish  an  old  dress  undergoing 
renovation ;  it  was  one  of  her  mother's  that 
the  girls  were  turning  and  remodeling,  hap- 
py in  the  knowledge  that  she  would  be 
pleasantly  surprised. 

"  Go  alone,  Madge ;  I  can  finish  it  in  an 
hour,  and  you  may  not  see  Mary  if  you 
don't  go  to-day,"  whispered  Ruth. 

"Very  well,"  said  Madge;  and  a  few 
minutes  later  she  was  on  her  way. 

Mary  Parker  was  a  very  lovely  girl,  as  re- 
fined and  gentle  by  nature  as  was  Ruth, 


70  THE  SILENT  MAN'S  LEGACY. 

who  had  been  from  childhood  her  chosen 
friend.  She  was  the  only  child  of  wealthy 
parents.  Her  father  had  formerly  been  one 
of  the  academy  trustees,  but,  finding  him- 
self unable  to  influence  the  other  trustees 
for  the  higher  good  of  that  institution,  he 
had  withdrawn  from  the  board.  Had  he 
held  office,  Professor  Preston  would  never 
have  been  so  dishonorably  deposed. 

The  Parkers  lived  in  a  handsome  old 
square  house  with  wide  halls  and  high 
porches,  having  a  beautiful  shaded  lawn  in 
front  and  a  large  fruit-and-flower  garden  be- 
hind. When  Madge  opened  the  tall  iron 
gate,  she  saw  through  the  trees  a  summer- 
house  where  Mary  sat  making  bouquets. 
Crossing  the  lawn,  Madge  approached  her, 
exclaiming, 

"  What  roses !  Oh,  I  never  saw  more 
beautiful  ones." 

"Are  they  not  exquisite?  You  must  take 
home  a  great  bunch.  I  am  getting  half  of 
these  for  the  neighbors.  Pick  out  the  col- 
ors you  prefer,"  said  Mary,  after  a  hearty 
greeting. 

"Well,  pink   ones   for   myself,"  laughed 


A  BLOW  AND  A  LETTER.  71 

Madge ;  "  white  ones  for  Ruth ;  these  pale- 
yellow  roses  are  grandmother's  favorites  be- 
cause for  some  reason  they  remind  her  of 
her  old  home;  father  likes  deep-red  ones, 
and  mother  every  kind  that  grows.  So,  you 
see,  Mary  I  shall  help  myself  bountifully." 

"  Madge,  what  made  your  father  resign 
his  position  at  the  academy  ?  You  are  not 
going  to  move  away,  are  you?  We  were 
greatly  surprised  to  hear  to-day  of  a  new 
principal.  The  trustees  have  been  trying 
to  get  father  on  the  school-board  again." 

Madge's  cheeks  were  redder  than  the  roses 
she  was  choosing,  bat  she  tried  to  control 
her  indignation : 

"  Father  did  not  resign.  This  upstart  of 
a  teacher  applied  for  the  place  while  father 
held  it ;  he  offered  to  come  for  a  lower  sal- 
ary, and  the  trustees  engaged  him  and  then 
dismissed  father,  who  for  fifteen  years  has 
served  them  only  too  conscientiously." 

"  Why,  Madge,  you  astonish  me  !  My  fa- 
ther did  not  understand  the  matter  in  any 
such  way." 

"  Very  likely  not ;  I  should  think  the 
trustees  would  hesitate  to  give  the  plain 


72  THE  SILENT  MAN'S  LEGACY. 

facts.  However,  Mary,  father  has  warned 
me  not  to  talk  the  affair  over  in  public,  for 
I  am  much  too  vehement ;  but  I  will  say  to 
you  that  from  the  bottom  of  my  heart  I  des- 
pise a  man  like  this  Mr.  Sedgewick." 

" « Mr.  Sedgewick '  ?     Who  is  he  ?" 

"  Why,  the  new  principal." 

Mary  was  at  a  loss  what  to  say,  and  soon 
changed  the  subject  after  satisfying  herself 
that  the  Prestons  had  no  present  plans  to 
leave  the  town : 

"There,  Madge!  put  your  roses  on  that 
wet  moss  and  come  into  the  house  with  me. 
I  want  you  to  see  some  new  books  in  the 
library." 

The  girls  sprang  up  and  tripped  across 
the  close-cut  grass  to  the  house,  whose  cool, 
richly-furnished  rooms  Madge  admired  and 
tried  not  to  covet  when  she  remembered  the 
faded  carpets  and  the  patched  furniture  at 
home.  They  were  talking  very  animatedly 
as  they  crossed  the  wide  hall,  and,  coming 
suddenly  into  the  subdued  light  of  the 
library,  neither  of  them  saw  Mr.  Parker 
standing  by  the  window  in  conversation 
with  two  gentlemen.  One  was  Mr.  Lyon. 


A   BLOW  AND  A  LETTER.  73 

complacent  and  pompous,  as  usual ;  the 
other,  a  rather  short,  thick-set  man  whose 
singularly  pleasant  voice  was  for  the  girls 
the  first  intimation  of  his  presence. 

"  Don't  retreat,  daughter,  nor  you,  Madge," 
exclaimed  Mr.  Parker.  "  Let  me  introduce 
you  to  Mr.  Sedgewick,  the  future  principal 
of  our  academy — though  Miss  Preston  may 
have  already  met  her  father's  successor." 

Looking  blandly  at  Mary,  whose  impulse 
had  been  to  put  herself  almost  between  him 
and  Madge,  Mr.  Sedgewick's  quiet  response 
was, 

"No;  that  is  a  pleasure  in  reserve.  I 
was  meaning  to  ask  Mr.  Lyon  to  take  me 
this  afternoon  to  call  on  Professor  Preston." 

"  You  mistake ;  this  is  Miss  Preston,"  be- 
gan Mr.  Parker,  getting  into  the  middle  of 
a  sentence  about  not  meaning  any  discourtesy 
to  Mr.  Sedgewick  when  he  expressed  regret 
that  the  Professor  had  resigned ;  but  just 
what  he  said  later  he  did  not  know,  for 
Madge  Preston's  face  was  a  study.  As  if 
aware  that  her  eyes  were  blazing  with  anger, 
she  turned  her  face  toward  the  open  window, 
but  not  before  Mr.  Sedgewick  and  Mr. 


74  THE  SILENT  MAN'S  LEGACY. 

Parker  also  had  seen  on  it  the  quick  con- 
tempt and  indignation.  Even  Mr.  Lyon 
was  for  some  cause  disconcerted,  and  mut- 
tered something  about  there  being  more 
time  for  social  calls  after  the  new  principal 
had  got  past  the  business  preliminaries. 

"  Excuse  me  for  interrupting  you,  papa," 
said  Mary.  "  I  wanted  to  show  Madge  the 
books  that  came  last  night;  they  are  over 
here ;"  and  with  as  much  tact  as  her  lady- 
mother  could  have  shown  Mary  made  an 
easy  impersonal  remark  and  escaped. 

"  Would  that  man  have  the  impudence  to 
interview  my  father  after  what  he  has 
done?"  exclaimed  Madge,  hotly,  when  once 
out  of  hearing. 

"  Perhaps  there  has  been  some  mistake," 
returned  Mary.  "  I  like  his  face  extremely." 

"  There  is  no  mistake ;  there  can't  be  any. 
But  I  am  glad  you  saved  me  from  uttering 
one  word ;  I  might  have  expressed  my 
mind." 

•'  You  have  a  speaking  countenance,  and 
that  spoke,"  laughed  Mary. 

"  I  hope  so.  Well,  I  will  get  my  roses 
and  go  home ;  we  are  very  busy  these  days." 


A   SLOW  AND  A  LETTER.  75 

The  girls  went  back  to  the  summer-house, 
where  Madge  left  Mary,  and  started  for 
home  with  her  arms  full  of  flowers.  Several 
times  she  stopped  in  the  quiet  street  to  have 
pleasant  talks  with  acquaintances.  Just  as 
she  parted  from  the  last,  a  garrulous  old 
lady,  a  gentleman  came  up  behind,  lifted  his 
hat  and  joined  her,  saying, 

"  I  am  glad  to  overtake  you,  Miss  Preston. 
I  am  rather  anxious  to  meet  your  father; 
will  I  find  him  disengaged  at  this  hour  ?" 

"He  was  at  home  an  hour  ago,"  replied 
Madge,  icily.  • 

With  many  quiet  glances  at  the  beautiful 
girl  who  carried  her  head  so  loftily,  Mr. 
Sedgewick  spoke  of  the  natural  beauties  of 
the  place,  made  some  candidly  disparaging 
remarks  about  the  academy  buildings  and 
carried  on  a  cheerful  monologue.  A  gleam 
of  fun  passed  once  over  Madge's  lips  at  the 
thought,  "  This  is  what  Johnny  would  call  a 
'versation.  It  is  like  the  interviews  be- 
tween Abby  and  Uncle  Henry — very  one- 
sided." 

"I  should  like  to  know,  Miss  Preston, 
what  led  your  father  to  resign  his  position, 


76  TiIE  SILENT  MAN'S  LEGACY. 

though  I  can  easily  imagine  certain  discour- 
agements from  what  little  I  have  seen  of  the 
condition  of  things  here." 

"  I  presume  my  father  would  prefer  to  be 
his  own  interpreter." 

"  That  is  precisely  my  motive  in  seeking 
him  out ;  I  am  not  quite  satisfied  with  hear- 
ing of  and  from  him  at  second  hand.  After 
his  resignation  I  had  no  time  to  write  him 
before  accepting  the  place." 

Madge  could  not  resist  the  question,  put 
with  the  slightest  accent  of  sarcasm : 

"  What  was  the  date  of  his  -resignation  ?" 

There  was  an  almost  unmanly  gentleness 
about  Mr.  Sedgewick's  mouth  on  ordinary 
occasions,  but  it  rapidly  turned  to  firmness 
as  he  said, 

"  If  you  will  be  kind  enough  to  answer 
that  question  for  me  yourself,  I  shall  un- 
derstand better  why  you  ask  it  in  just  that 
way." 

"Oh,"  thought  Madge,  "you  need  not 
think  to  impress  me  with  your  stern  airs  ; 
I  am  to  be  no  pupil  of  yours."  She  calmly 
disentangled  a  thorny  rose  from  the  frill  of 
her  sleeve,  gave  Mr.  Sedgewick  a  glance  that 


A  BLOW  AND  A  LETTER.  77 

suggested  scornful  disapproval,  and  then  an- 
swered, 

"  I  am  not  aware  that  ray  father  ever  went 
through  the  useless  form  of  a  resignation. 
After  you  had  applied  for  the  position  that 
he  was  holding,  and  when  the  trustees  had 
given  it  to  you,  he  was  notified  to  step  down 
and  out.  He  will  supply  you  with  the  dates 
if  he — is  meeker  than  his  daughter." 

There  was  a  sudden  quiver  of  tenderness 
in  the  girl's  tone  as  she  thought  of  the 
humiliation  to  which  her  father  had  been 
subjected,  and  a  second  after  she  regretted 
having  one  word  with  this  interloper.  All 
the  same,  she  stopped  as  he  exclaimed,  sud- 
denly standing  still  in  his  astonishment, 

"  Wait  a  moment,  Miss  Preston.  There  is 
a  shameful  deception  here,  or  a  wild  mistake. 
Do  you  know  just  what  you  are  saying  ?" 

Madge  might  have  been  a  child  of  ten  for 
all  the  heed  Mr.  Sedgewick  paid  to  her  after 
she  had  answered  "  Yes,"  indignant  at  the 
doubt  expressed  in  his  question.  He  walked 
rapidly  on  in  grave  silence,  and  Madge 
thought  better  of  him  in  this  mood.  Possi- 
bly he  was  not  so  deserving  of  condemnation 


78  THE  SILENT  MAN'S  LEGACY. 

as  she  supposed.  She  guided  him  home  and 
left  him  to  the  tender  mercies  of  her  father 
who  received  his  unexpected  guest  with 
much  more  self-possession  than  his  daughter 
had  displayed. 

The  latter  darted  into  the  sitting-room 
and  reported  the  episode  of  the  afternoon. 

For  the  next  hour  earnest  voices  were 
heard  from  the  Professor's  room  in  constant 
discussion. 

"  Father  must  be  giving  him  a  terrible  go- 
ing over,"  said  Ruth,  apprehensively.  "  He 
will  have  one  of  his  headaches  to-night." 

"  Has  he  gone  ?"  asked  Mrs.  Preston,  ap- 
pearing from  the  dining-room  to  say  that 
supper  was  ready. 

Just  then  the  Professor's  door  opened,  the 
gentlemen  came  into  the  hall,  and,  to  the  la- 
dies' surprise,  the  Professor  himself  was 
heard  to  urge  Mr.  Sedgewick  with  much 
cordiality  "to  stay  to  tea,"  "to  come  in 
again  "  and  not  to  let  this  matter  give  him 
"  any  more  annoyance."  Moreover,  if  he 
could  help  him  "by  any  advice  or  infor- 
mation later,  when  school  opened,"  he  must 
"  call  on  "  him  "  freely." 


A  BLOW  AND  A   LETTER.  79 

"  Heaping  coals  of  fire,"  whispered  Madge — 
"  or,  rather,  trying  to  quite  burn  him  up,  I 
should  think.  I  could  not  be  so  forgiving." 

"  What  does  it  mean,  Philip?"  asked  Mr?. 
Preston  when  her  husband  shut  the  door 
behind  Mr.  Sedgewick  and  joined  the  fam- 
ily. 

"  It  means  that  that  man  is  a  gentleman. 
To  make  a  long  story  short  and  not  to  harrow 
up  yourselves  in  looking  for  the  real  wrong- 
doer, be  content  to  know  that  before  he  asked 
for  it  Mr.  Sedgewick  was  given  to  under- 
stand that  my  place  was  vacant." 

"  Miss  Elder,"  whispered  Madge. 

"  '  Charity  thinketh  no  evil/  "  murmured 
Mrs.  Preston,  reproving  herself  for  secretly 
echoiDg  Madge's  suspicions. 

"  He  began  to  suspect  the  truth  when  Mr. 
Lyon  opposed  his  coming  to  see  me,  and  he 
resolved  to  know  everything  at  the  outset. 
He  was  outraged  at  the  indignity  not  only 
to  me,  but  to  himself.  Had  he  not  been 
undeceived,  he  would  have  rested  under  the 
imputation  of  a  meanness  utterly  abhorrent 
to  him.  He  insisted  on  throwing  up  his 
engagement  without  delay,  and  I  spent  the 


80  THE  SILENT  MAN'S  LEGACY. 

hour  laboring  to  show  him  the  uselessness  of 
that.  Self-respect  would  prevent  my  ever 
taking  the  position  in  circumstances  like 
the  present.  I  exonerate  him  from  all  blame, 
and  he,  as  I  told  him,  may  even  turn  the  af- 
fair to  his  own  advantage  and  the  public  good. 
He  can  put  the  trustees — some  of  them — to 
the  blush  for  their  duplicity,  and  by  taking 
high  ground  at  the  start  he  may  get  from 
them  concessions  for  the  academy  that  I 
never  could.  I  like  him  extremely." 

"  Dear  me !"  laughed  Ruth.  "  I  fancied 
from  Madge's  fierce  manner  that  his  impu- 
dence must  be  superhuman." 

"So  I  thought  it  was.  I  would  like  to 
see  him  again,  for  I  was  so  filled  with  indig- 
nation that  I  scarcely  looked  at  him  suf- 
ficiently to  know  him  another  time,"  said 
Madge. 

"  Well,  sit  down  to  your  supper  now,  for 
the  tea  is  getting  cold.  I  waited  on  purpose 
until  the  Eastern  train  was  in,  thinking  Mr. 
Raynor  might  come ;"  and,  so  saying,  Mrs. 
Preston  took  her  own  seat,  adding,  "I  am 
sure  I  rejoice  that  the  new  principal  is  aD 
honorable  man." 


CHAPTEE  IV. 

VARIOUS  TOPICS. 

"  So  links  more  subtle  and  more  fine 
Bind  every  other  soul  to  thine 
In  one  great  Brotherhood  divine." 

AS  Abby  was  borne  swiftly  Westward  on 
the  first  long  journey  of  her  life  she  ex- 
perienced a  great  variety  of  emotions,  but 
homesickness  was  for  a  time  predominant. 
Suddenly  she  recalled  her  dialogue  with 
Johnny,  and  said  to  herself, 

"  No,  Abby,  you  shall  not  be  an  allegori- 
cal pig!  What  if  you  would  prefer  your 
own  home-nest?"  (Mixed  metaphors  never 
troubled  Abby.)  "Is  that  any  reason  for 
r(  fusing  to  fly  to  a  poor  suffering  fellow- 
mortal  who  has  got  himself  in  some  out- 
landish place?  When  duty  calls,  all  that 
ought  to  concern  me  is  to  get  up  and  start ; 

6  81 


82  THE  SILENT  MAN'S  LEGACY. 

the  Lord  will  guide  me  the  rest  of  the  way. 
That  poor  old  soul  over  there  in  rusty  alpaca 
has  got  a  cracking  headache ;  I  know  it  by 
the  way  she  shuts  her  eyes  and  draws  her 
mouth." 

Five  minutes  later  the  weary  old  woman 
had  Abby's  shawl  "in  the  small  of  her 
back  " — where  Abby  had  decided  it  ought 
to  go — had  her  feet  in  a  comfortable  position, 
had  told  a  common  enough  little  story  of  ill- 
health,  of  a  dying  son  whom  she  was  going 
to  see  and  of  a  life  very  full  of  lesser  troubles. 
At  the  first  stopping-place  for  refreshments 
Abby  got  her  a  cup  of  tea;  after  it  the 
headache  went  away,  and  there  came  instead 
a  hope  that  her  son  might  be  better,  after  all 
— yes,  and  a  rested,  comforted  feeling  that 
had  crept  over  her  after  Abby  said, 

"  You  go  to  sleep  now  remembering  what 
the  Bible  says  to  them  that  trust  in  the  Lord. 
It  says  he  '  shall  preserve  thee  from  all  evil. 
The  Lord  shall  preserve  thy  going  out  and 
thy  coming  in  from  this  time  forth  and  even 
for  evermore.'  He  knows  that  you  and  I  are 
going  West,  and  we  need  not  be  one  bit 
scared." 


VARIOUS  TOPICS.  83 

In  fact,  long  before  Abby  reached  her 
journey's  end  she  had  gained  the  good-will 
of  many  who  had  laughed  at  her  full-moon 
countenance  and  her  bright-red  traveling- 
dress.  She  petted  the  invalids,  amused  the 
children — would  have  enjoyed  helping  the 
porter  had  that  been  expedient.  A  great 
many  people  had  confided  their  plans,  hopes 
and  troubles  to  her,  and  she  felt  at  least  a 
year  older  than  when  she  started.  Heeding 
a  delicately-made  suggestion  of  Mrs.  Preston, 
she  told  no  one  anything  of  her  own  affairs 
beyond  the  fact  that  she  was  going  to  nurse 
a  friend  who  was  ill  among  strangers. 

It  was  about  eight  o'clock  one  evening 
when  Abby  arrived  at  the  little  settlement 

of  S Forks  and  made  her  way  to  Mr. 

Preston.  An  extract  from  her  first  anx- 
iously-awaited letter  will  give  her  impres- 
sions : 

"  Traveling  isn't  anything ;  starting  is  all 
there  is  to  it.  That  isn't  anything,  either,  if 
somebody  says  'Start'  and  furnishes  the 
money ;  after  that  you  just  go.  I  found 
the  greatest  number  of  people  going  too, 
and  they  were  all  so  like  other  folks  that 


84  THE  SILENT -MAN'S  LEGACY. 

before  I  got  done  with  'em  it  seemed  as  if  I 
had  known  'em  all  my  born  days. 

"  S Forks  isn't  a  place  at  all ;  it  is  a 

huddle  of  rough  houses  and  a  rum-hole,  and 
a  store  full  of  everything  except  them  lux- 
uries that  I  brought  in  my  trunk  for  sick 
people,  and  a  lot  of  mines.  The  men  all 
look  like  murderers,  and  the  women  are 
dried  up  and  yellow  and  wear  the  dingiest, 
slouching  old  calico  dresses !  How  some  of 
'em  scold !  The  very  men  who  look  like 
cut-throats  ain't,  for  they  stand  the  women's 
scolding  as  meek  as  can  be. 

"  But  I  am  rambling  away  from  your 
uncle  Henry.  I  found  him  in  a  tolerable 
decent  house — the  neatest  one  here — and 
the  woman  who  keeps  boarders  had  done 
the  best  she  could  for  him.  I  can't  tell 
what  ails  him  ;  he  can't  tell  himself,  nor  the 
doctor,  either — if  he  is  a  doctor.  Henry  has 
sort  of  lost  his  grip,  but  he'll  get  it  again,  I 
hope.  I  made  his  bed  all  over  and  gave  him 
beef-tea  and  told  him  all  the  news  and 
cleaned  house  before  midnight;  after  that 
I  settled  down  to  take  care  of  him.  He  is 
just  as  sociable  as  he  can  be.  He  said  that 


VARIOUS  TOPICS.  85 

first  night,  'I  knew  you  would  come/  and 
4  How  are  the  folks  ?'  and  some  days  since, 
when  he  hasn't  said  quite  so  much,  he  has 
let  me  talk;  and  that  does  just  as  well,  be- 
cause I  always  did  know  what  he  would  say 
if  he'd  only  think  it  was  worth  while  to 
say  it. 

"  The  woman  of  the  house  is  good-princi- 
pled, I  guess,  but  she  is  a  poor  coot  about 
housekeeping.  I  amuse  myself  off-times 
cooking,  and  the  boarders  have  offered  me 
a  share  in  a  mine  here  if  I  will  keep  on 
doing  it.  There  isn't  a  Bible  in  this  house 
except  mine,  nor  in  any  house  around,  unless 
I  am  mightily  mistaken. 

"  I  just  wanted  to  get  off  by  myself  last 
Sunday  and  confess  to  the  Lord  what  an  un- 
grateful wretch  I  was  always,  reveling,  as 
you  might  say,  in  blessings  all  my  mortal 
days.  Three  women  came  visiting  Sunday 
afternoon  with  uncombed  hair,  no  collars 
and  old  dragged-out  clothes.  I  hated  to 
go  around  before  them  in  my  new  Turkey- 
red  dress,  but  I  had  to;  and  I  guess  they 
found  out  I  was  not  proud,  for  they  got  to 
talking  about  the  days  before  they  came 


86  THE  SILENT  MAN'S  LEGACY. 

here  and  their  Eastern  homes,  and,  it  being 
Sunday  and  all,  I  read  the  Bible  to  them  a 
whole  hour  steady ;  and  one  of  them  cried 
just  like  a  baby,  and  all  of  them  want  Bibles 
and  mean  to  get  them.  I  think  I'll  try  and 
do  a  little  missionary  work  and  sort  of  col- 
porteuring  around  off-times  when  I  ain't 
nursing  your  uncle  or  cooking  for  the  board- 
ers. I  gave  a  peddler  three  dollars  to  buy 
me  some  Testaments  and  fetch  them  when  he 
comes  again.  Miss  Peters  here  says  he  will 
not  come,  but  I  know  he  will.  The  Lord  is 
sorrier  for  these  folks  than  I  am,  and  they 
ain't  going  to  ask  for  his  own  word  in  vain. 
Besides,  that  peddler  never  got  mad  when  I 
ec — ec — sporchtulated  with  him  about  swear- 
ing so  dreadfully.  He  offered  me  a  yard  of 
ribbon  for  nothing.  Johnny  need  not  say 
my  spelling  is  not  correct,  as  if  he'd  found 
out  something  I  did  not  know  before. 

"  Mis'  Preston,  you'd  better  look  to  them 
strawberries  I  canned.  If  I  didn't  get  'em 
Air-tight,  they'll  be  a-performing,  and  spoil. 

"Your  uncle  Henry  came  here  to  look 
after  some  silver-mine.  It  has  biist  up  or 
fallen  through  or  run  out — whatever  expres- 


VARIOUS  TOPICS.  87 

sion  they  use  for  the  losing  of  what  they 
never  had — as  near  as  I  can  make  out. 

"  But  I  must  stop  writing,  for  I  am  going 
to  blister  your  uncle.  I  have  no  faith  in 
this  nun? skull  of  a  doctoring-chap  who  comes 
around  with  his  pills.  He  hasn't  but  two 
sorts,  and  neither  is  good  for  much — one 
sort  for  chills,  and  one  for  fever.  I  tried 
both  sorts  myself,  and  wasn't  one  ioter  hotter 
or  colder  than  common." 

Immediately  after  getting  this  letter  the 
Professor  wrote  urging  his  brother  to  send 
for  the  best  medical  attendance  of  which  he 
could  possibly  avail  himself;  he  also  coun- 
seled Abby  to  use  all  her  influence  to  this 
end  if  his  brother's  case  seemed  serious. 
However,  after  he  learned  that  Henry  had 
no  acute  attack  of  disease,  he  remembered 
many  times  when  he  had  rallied  from  similar 
weakness,  and  was  almost  sure  that  with  good 
care  he  would  soon  be  well  again. 

These  were  days  full  of  anxiety  to  Pro- 
fessor Preston.  He  was  making  every  effort 
to  learn  of  some  school  needing  a  teacher,  but 
day  after  day  passed,  and  the  most  promising 
prospects  proved  delusive.  Teachers  were 


88  THE  SILENT  NAN'S  LEGACY. 

wanted  for  dancing,  for  drawing,  for  music 
and  French — for  every  department  which 
the  poor  man  was  not  able  to  fill.  He  tried 
with  failing  courage  not  to  think  of  the  on- 
coming days  when  his  last  salary  would  be 
exhausted  and  he  be  forced  to  borrow  money 
or  run  in  debt  or —  What?  He  would 
gladly  do  any  work  for  which  he  had  the 
strength,  but  he  was  not  very  well  fitted  for 
new  employment,  even  if  he  could  find  any 
opening.  Mrs.  Preston  tried  to  cheer  him  by 
telling  him  how  cleverly  she  and  the  "  girls  " 
could  manage.  Their  earnings  would  help, 
and  perhaps  if  she  herself  were  to  take 
boarders  they  could  support  the  family  very 
comfortably.  He  knew  better.  Nobody 
wanted  to  board  save  a  few  persons  very 
undesirable  as  inmates.  Everybody  in  the 
village  preferred  a  home,  no  matter  how 
humble,  to  a  boarding-place. 

Johnny  had  brought  Abby's  letter  one 
noon,  and  in  the  afternoon  of  that  same  day 
Loraine  Faye  arrived.  The  girls  were  sit- 
ting on  the  front  doorsteps,  which  were  back 
from  the  street  and  shaded  by  a  great  maple 


VARIOUS  TOPICS.  89 

tree.  Neither  of  them  saw  Loraine  until 
the  gate  clicked,  and  Madge,  looking  up, 
espied  the  slim  figure  in  the  stylish  gray 
dress.  They  sprang  up  with  exclamations 
of  heartiest  welcome  and  cries  of  "  Where 
did  you  come  from  ?  Did  you  walk  from 
the  station  ?"  and  "  Why  didn't  you  let  us 
know  you  were  coming  ?" 

"  I  came  from  a  place  that  I  did  not  start 
from,  and  I  did  not  know  when  I  should  ar- 
rive here ;  and  the  reason  I  could  not  take 
a  carriage  is  evident,"  laughed  Loraine  as, 
opening  her  dainty  pocketbook,  she  displayed 
two  cents,  and  nothing  more.  Her  cheeks 
were  flushed  with  unusual  excitement,  and 
she  declared  that  she  was  not  tired  or  dusty 
or  hungry,  but  must  at  once  tell  her  advent- 
ures since  morning. 

"  I  started  on  the  seven-o'clock  train  from 
Millbridge  in  order  to  reach  here  about  ten. 
Mrs.  Allen  has  a  new  man  who  is  remark- 
ably reliable  and  intelligent;  we  have  all 
come  to  depend  on  him  to  do  our  errands, 
and  to  make  no  mistakes.  Well,  he  went  to 
the  train  with  me,  checked  my  trunk, 
bought  me  a  paper  and  found  me  a  seat  ou 


90  THE  SILENT  MAN'S  LEGACY. 

the  shaded  side  of  the  car.  You  know  two 
trains  meet  at  the  station  there,  but  of  course 
I  never  dreamed  of  taking  the  Eastern  train, 
while,  it  seems,  John  Myers,  either  getting 
confused  or  having  an  idea  that  I  was  going 
East,  hurried  me  across  the  Western  train 
without  my  knowledge — I  was  certainly  as 
stupid  as  he — and  before  the  conductor  came 
around  I  was  well  on  the  way  to  New  York. 
My  ticket  was  all  right,  and  I  was  amazed 
to  learn  that  I  was  all  wrong.  He  was  very 
kind  and  discussed  the  situation  as  amiably 
as  if  such  blunders  were  common.  He  said 

I  would  do  best  to  go  to  S ,  stay  there 

until  two  o'clock  and  take  the  express  back. 
I  resigned  myself,  and  felt  very  placid  when 

at  nine  o'clock  we  ran  into  S .  I  walked 

about  in  a  pretty  park,  went  to  a  picture- 
gallery,  and  at  one  o'clock  was  very  hungry. 
I  did  not  like  to  go  alone  to  a  hotel,  and,  as 
I  had  noticed  a  very  nice  restaurant  by  the 
station  and  had  seen  ladies  there,  I  thought 
I  would  take  a  lunch  and  be  ready  for  the 
train  back.  The  restaurant  was  quite  crowd- 
ed, but  I  ate  leisurely,  and  paid  my  bill 
without  being  aware  that  any  one  was  inter- 


VARIOUS  TOPICS.  91 

ested  in  my  movements.  I  made  sure  later 
that  I  was  getting  on  the  right  train,  and,  as 
I  secured  a  very  nice  seat,  I  said  to  myself, 
'  There !  now  I  am  headed  in  the  proper  di- 
rection, and  all  is  well  that  ends  well.'  I 
had  my  ticket  and  my  money  in  my  Russia- 
leather  case— you  remember  it,  Madge — not 
much  money,  I  am  glad  to  know.  I  went 
to  look  for  the  ticket,  and  the  case  was  gone. 
A  pickpocket  had  cut  open  my  pocket,  as 
you  see  here,  and  taken  its  contents.  I  sup- 
pose I  looked  as  I  felt ;"  and  Loraine  paused 
for  breath,  while  Ruth  cried,  "  Poor  child !" 
and  Madge  exclaimed, 

"  It  was  dreadful.  But  I  wish  I  could 
have  seen  you.  You  know  I  always  said 
that  no  girl  of  your  age  ought  to  have  such 
repose  of  manner  as  you  have." 

"Well,  I  lost  it;  I  believe  I  groaned  out 
loud.  I  know  I  just  stared  at  that  gash  in 
my  new  dress,  while  I  thought  of  having  no 
ticket  and  not  a  bit  of  money — oh  yes ! 
these  two  cents — and  such  a  story  to  tell  the 
conductor.  There  was  a  man  in  the  seat 
behind  me  who  had  been  drinking.  He 
began  to  ask  me  questions  just  as  another 


92  THE  SILENT  MAN'S  LEGACY. 

one  in  front  turned  around.  I  was  afraid 
of  the  first  one ;  and  when  the  other  saw  it, 
he  asked  me  quietly  and  kindly  what  had 
happened,  and  I  told  him  the  whole  without 
waiting  for  the  conductor.  He  had  a  face 
that  I  could  not  help  trusting,  and  I  did  not 
realize  that  he  was  not  an  old  man.  When 
he  heard  where  I  was  going,  he  said  that  I 
must  not  give  myself  the  least  annoyance, 
or  even  trouble  myself  to  tell  the  conductor 
of  my  tribulations ;  I  must  let  him  pay  my 
fare,  take  his  card  and  return  the  loan  at 
my  convenience.  His  name  was  Sedge  wick, 
and  he  was  to  be  principal  of  the  academy 
here  next  year." 

Seeing  the  girls'  surprise  and  amusement, 
Loraine  continued : 

"Up  to  that  time  I  would  have  refused 
his  offer,  preferring  to  trust  myself  to  the 
conductor  rather  than  borrow  money  of  a 
stranger;  but  when  I  exclaimed  that  Pro- 
fessor Preston  was  the  academy-principal,  he 
told  me  of  the  change  and  how  he  had  called 
here  only  last  week,  and  that  he  had  met 
Madge.  After  that  I  let  him  pay  the  con- 
ductor, and  I  assured  him  that  I  could  be 


VARIOUS  TOPICS.  93 

trusted  to  discharge  my  honest  debts.  Now 
here  I  am,  as  tired  as  if  I  had  escaped  perils 
of  every  variety." 

"  And  where  is  he  ?"  asked  Madge,  laugh- 
ing at  the  impression  her  own  scornful  coun- 
tenance must  have  made  on  the  "  irrepressi- 
ble principal,"  as  she  henceforth  styled  him. 

"Mr.  Sedgewick?  Oh,  he  went  on  far- 
ther west  somewhere.  I  am  to  send  his 
money  to  Utica." 

"Well,  Loraine,  if  you  were  one  of  the 
wild  girls  of  the  seminary,  I  should  suspect 
you  of  having  these  adventures  on  purpose ; 
as  it  is,  I  will  admit  that  they  must  have 
been  very  trying,"  said  Ruth,  gayly ;  while 
Madge  added, 

"Now  come  in  and  see  the  family  and 
rest  a  little  after  your  exciting  travels." 

Loraiue  was  prepared  to  find  the  Preston 
household  conducted  on  simple  principles. 
She  found  the  house  and  its  belongings 
almost  poverty-touched,  but  before  she  had 
been  there  an  hour  she  felt  the  charm  of 
true  Christian  refinement,  the  presence  of  a 
home  atmosphere  full  of  love  and  kindliness. 
The  gentle  Professor,  the  dear  old  grand- 


94  THE  SILENT  MAN'S  LEGACY. 

mother,  and  even  awkward  Johnny,  each 
made  her  welcome  in  a  pleasant,  characteris- 
tic way.  She  was  especially  pleased  with 
Grandma  Grey,  who  talked  of  unseen  things 
as  if  they  were  the  most  real  of  any  to  her. 

The  second  day  of  Loraine's  stay  the 
Professor  received  a  reply  to  an  application 
for  a  position  of  which  he  had  cherished 
many  hopes ;  this  destroyed  them  all  in 
a  sentence.  Loraine,  who  had  been  briefly 
told  by  Ruth  the  facts  in  the  case,  easily 
divined  the  reason  of  the  sigh  he  gave  as 
he  folded  the  letter  and  said  to  the  old  lady, 
half  playfully, 

"Mother  Grey,  what  would  make  you 
look  melancholy  ?" 

Loraine  was  a  little  startled  as  grandma 
replied  promptly,  "  The  white  devil,"  and 
the  Professor  looked  equally  curious. 

"That  is  what  old  John  Bunyan  calls 
unbelief.  It  is  a  reasonable,  harmless-look- 
ing devil,  he  says,  but  one  that  makes  mis- 
chief in  a  body's  soul.  When  he  is  around, 
I  am  melancholy ;  but  I  can  keep  cheerful, 
no  matter  how  crookedly  things  go,  when  I 
feel,  as  Bunyan  does,  that  '  there  is  nothing 


VARIOUS  TOPICS.  95 

like  faith  to  help  at  a  pinch.  Faith  dissolves 
doubts  as  the  sun  drives  away  the  mists, 
and,  that  you  may  not  be  put  out,  know,'  he 
says,  'that  your  time  of  believing  is  always. 
Let  it  rain,  let  it  blow,  let  it  thunder,  let  it 
lighten,  a  Christian  must  still  believe.'" 

"  You  are  right,"  said  the  Professor,  going 
back  to  his  room  and  leaving  Loraine  alone, 
as  it  happened,  with  the  old  lady,  who  said, 

"  Bunyan  knew  what  he  was  talking  about, 
and  we  all  of  us  sooner  or  later  come  to  places 
where  we  must  be  saved  by  faith  or  sink  into 
wretchedness.  Have  you  not  found  it  so, 
dear?" 

Loraine's  pale  face  flushed ;  then,  as  if  by 
a  great  effort,  she  replied  : 

"  I  have  not  realized  for  myself  a  great 
deal  that  people  whom  I  trust  tell  me  is 
true.  I  believe  that  they  believe." 

"And  that  doesn't  give  you  a  bit  of  com- 
fort when  your  heart  aches  does  it,  you  poor 
child?  I  must  tell  you  one  more  thing 
Buuyan  says:  'A  little  from  God  is  better 
than  a  great  deal  from  men.'  He  knew 
that  one  man's  faith  could  not  be  shared 
with  another,  for,  as  he  goes  on  to  say,  '  the 


96  THE  SILENT  MAN'S 

reason  why  people  at  this  day  are  at  such  a 
loss  as  to  some  things  is  because  they  receive 
what  comes  from  men's  mouths  (or  reject  it) 
without  searching  and  kneeling  before  God 
to  know  of  him  the  truth  of  things ;'  and  then, 
dear,  he  adds  what  is  so  wise :  '  Things  that 
we  receive  at  God's  hand  come  to  us  as 
things  from  the  minting-house — though  old 
in  themselves,  yet  new  to  us.  Old  truths 
are  always  new  to  us  if  they  come  to  us 
with  the  smell  of  heaven  upon  them/  Don't 
you  rest,  dear  child,  until  God  himself  gives 
you  the  truth ;  and  remember  that  Jesus 
Christ  is  the  truth  ready  to  be  revealed 
when  you  are  ready  to  receive.  I  see  these 
blessed  realities  so  plainly  nowadays,  per- 
haps, because  I  am  getting  old  and  useless 
in  the  world.  Having  so  much  time  to 
think,  I  love  to  talk  to  young  people  who 
have  their  life  before  them.  But  I  will  try 
and  not  weary  you.  Madge  and  Ruth  are 
so  patient  with  me !" 

Loraine  was  very  undemonstrative,  but, 
bending  over  the  old  lady,  she  kissed  her 
wrinkled  cheek  and  with  misty  eyes  whis- 
pered, 


VARIOUS  TOPICS.  97 

"Pray  for  me,  grandmother,  that  God 
will  give  me  a  truth  for  myself  'with  the 
smell  of  heaven  on  it.'  My  heart  is  very 
hard  sometimes,  but  oftener  it  is  very 
lonely." 

"  He  says,  '  Come  unto  me,  all  ye  that 
labor  and  are  heavy  laden.'  Have  you 
been  to  him?" 

"  I  have — tried — to  start,"  faltered  Loraine, 
questioning  her  conscience. 

"  Well,  he  will  meet  you  surely  and  give 
you  rest,"  said  the  old  lady  as  cheerily  as  if 
talking  to  a  child  of  an  absolute  certainty. 

After  a  while  grandma  fell  asleep  in  her 
easy-chair,  and  Loraine  glided  softly  up  to 
her  room,  or  the  one  that  had  been  Ruth's 
before  her  arrival ;  now  the  sisters  slept  to- 
gether. 

"  Ruth  ought  to  be  good,  and  Madge,  too, 
brought  up  in  such  a  home.  How  different 
mine  was !"  She  glanced  around  at  the  worn 
bureau  and  the  old-fashioned  bed,  the  braided 
mats  on  the  stained  floor,  the  exquisite  neat- 
ness of  the  whole  place,  made  pretty,  in  spite 
of  poverty,  by  feminine  devices.  She  remem- 
bered the  elegant  chambers  of  her  old  home, 


98  THE  SILENT  MAN'S  LEGACY. 

her  French  maid,  the  finery  and  show  that 
she  never  enjoyed,  and  thought,  "  How  much 
richer  was  the  life  these  little  girls  had  than 
mine!  If  I  had  only  had  a  grandmother, 
failing  of  a  mother !  Everything  seems  to 
have  been  against  my  learning  what  came  to 
them  unsought." 

Loraine's  face  was  so  full  of  a  discontent 
which  Ruth  more  than  any  one  else  under- 
stood that  when  Ruth  herself  suddenly  ap- 
peared on  the  threshold  Loraine  said, 

"  Oh,  don't  be  dismayed.  I  am  a  little 
melancholy,  as  usual.  Your  good  grand- 
mother, whom  I  have  been  coveting,  would 
say  a  '  white  devil '  was  after  me." 

"  Yes,  I  have  heard  of  him,"  said  Ruth,  a 
smile  flickering  about  her  lips.  She  went  to 
a  little  shelf  of  books,  took  down  a  worn  vol- 
ume of  poems  and  read  aloud : 

" '  I  think,  if  thou  couldst  know, 
With  thy  dim  mortal  sight, 
How  meanings  dark  to  thee 
Are  shadows  hiding  light, 
Truth's  efforts  crossed  and  vexed, 
Life's  purpose  all  perplexed, — 

If  thou  couldst  see  them  right, 

I  think  that  they  would  seem  all  clear  and  wise  and 
bright. 


VARIOUS  TOPICS.  99 

"  'And  yet  tliou  canst  not  know, 
And  yet  thou  canst  not  see : 
Wisdom  and  sight  are  slow 

In  poor  humanity. 
If  thou  couldst  trust,  poor  soul ! 
In  Him  who  rules  the  whole, 

Thou  wouldst  find  peace  and  rest, 
Wisdom  and  sight  are  well,  but  trust  is  best." 


Eutb  shut  up  the  book  and  said, 

"  Now,  don't  you  want  to  take  a  walk  and 
see  this  old  town  of  ours  ?" 

"  Yes,  when  I  tell  you  that  you  are  as 
near  like  your  own  lovely  grandmother  as 
sixty  years'  difference  in  age  will  permit.  Is 
Madge  going  with  us  ?" 

Yes,  Madge  was  going.  She  danced  in 
from  her  own  room  in  the  wildest  of  spirits, 
and  soon  all  were  laughing  at  her  comical 
speeches.  Madge  was  an  optimist.  If  her 
friends  were  ill,  she  was  sure  they  would  re- 
cover, "  because,  you  know,  they  have  lived 
so  long."  She  was  very  angry  at  the  treat- 
ment that  her  father  had  received,  but,  in 
the  true  Micawber  spirit,  she  was  positive 
that  something  fine  "  would  turn  up." 

Getting  their  hats,  the  three  girls  went 
down  the  hill  and  the  length  of  the  main 


100  THE  SILENT  MAN'S  LEGACY. 

street,  showing  Loraine  the  few  really  fine 
houses  and  the  many  pretty  old-fashioned  cot- 
tages, then  the  one  business  street,  almost  as 
quiet  as  any  other  part  of  the  village.  Half 
a  dozen  "  teams "  from  the  country  were 
hitched  to  posts  where  the  staid  old  horses 
could  contemplate  the  calicoes,  straw  hats 
and  parasols  in  the  windows.  Inside  the 
shop  the  farmers'  wives  were  chatting  togeth- 
er, and  their  daughters  were  trying  to  find 
out  the  fashions  as  they  were  worn  by  "  folks 
in  town." 

Loraine  liked  everything,  but  chiefly  the 
straggling  side-streets  where  grass  grew, 
where  trees  almost  met  overhead,  and  now 
and  then  between  the  old-fashioned  gardens 
came  a  field  full  of  dandelions  and  butter- 
cups. 

"And  you  want  to  leave  all  this  for  a  city, 
you  deluded  Madge  ?"  she  exclaimed. 

"All  what  ?" 

"All  this  nature — blue  sky,  roses,  butter- 
cups and — our  society." 

"  Oh,  I  want  to  see  some  new  human  nat- 
ure, and  I  dare  say  there  is  sky  over  New 
York.  I  shall  miss  you,"  replied  Madge, 


VARIOUS  TOPICS.  101 

lightly,  adding,  a  minute  later,  "  You  must 
remember  that  you  had  years  in  which  to 
get  tired  of  a  city.  Loraine,  what  are  you 
going  to  do  now  that  school  is  a  thing  of  the 
past  for  you  ?" 

"  Tell  me  ?"  asked  Loraine. 

"  Have  a  career,"  Madge  answered,  prompt- 
ly. "  I  am  thinking  of  beginning  one  myself. 
I  have  plenty  of  ability,  and  possibly  you 
also  may  have." 

"  Thanks !  May  I  ask  in  what  line  yours 
seems  to  lie?  It  may  help  me  in  finding 
out  my— possible — own,"  laughed  Loraine. 

"  I  do  not  wish  to  commit  myself  prema- 
turely on  that  point,  but  I  have  been  serious- 
ly reflecting  that  ability  without  much  self- 
confidence  makes  a  failure.  Of  course  self- 
confidence  without  ability  makes  a  fool,  but 
with  self-confidence  ability  such  as  I  un- 
doubtedly possess  makes  success.  If  I  were 
to  live  my  life  over  again,  I  would  not  be  so 
retiring — so  unassuming." 

"  Ruth,  there  was  not  anything  intoxicat- 
ing in  the  pudding-sauce  that  you  made  for 
dinner,  was  there  ?"  asked  Loraine. 

"  No,   dear   hearers,"   continued    Madge. 


102  THE  SILENT  MAN'S  LEGACY. 

"  Lacking  self-confidence,  I  have  not  achiev- 
ed greatness,  and  I  can  testify  that  it  is  all 
nonsense  about  having  it '  thrust  on '  one." 
Then,  dropping  her  oratorical  manner,  she 
said  in  her  natural  voice,  "  I  really  do  think 
that  it  would  be  charming  to  become  what  is 
called  a  'social  success.'  I  would  like  to 
live  in  a  city,  to  have  plenty  of  money  and 
be  a  leader  of  the  best  style  in  refined  and — 
and  piously-fashionable  society." 

"Oh,  turn  your  adjectives  around,  Madge," 
laughed  Loraine.  "  I  have  heard — and  seen 
too — fashionably-pious  people,  but  there  is 
an  incongruity  that  I  can't  explain  about 
your  combination  of  words." 

"  Not  at  all ;  your  arrangement  is  incon- 
gruous. I  think  a  person  might  be  really 
good  and  do  ever  so  much  Christian  work, 
and  yet  know  every  time  what  was  the  very 
latest  style  in  dress,  house-furnishing  and 
"etiquette.  I  believe  I  have  the  sort  of 
ability  that  would  give  me  success  of  that 
kind  if  I  only  had  wealth  to  back  up  the 
ability." 

How  very  girlish  Madge  looked  standing 
there  by  Mr.  Parker's  pasture-lot!  She 


VARIOUS  TOPICS.  103 

wore  a  neat  but  faded  and  slightly  outgrown 
cotton  gown,  because  her  better  ones  were 
being  saved  for  the  visit  to  New  York. 
She  seemed  to  Ruth  to  be  talking  purest 
nonsense,  but  Loraine  said  to  herself,  "  Yes, 
with  your  beauty  and  high  spirit,  money 
would  easily  enough  open  to  you  a  career  of 
gayety ;  but  I  am  glad  that  you  can't  have 
it,  for  it  would  spoil  you." 

"Ruth,  why  are  you  staring  that  poor 
cow  out  of  countenance?"  cried  Madge, 
giving  her  sister  a  playful  shake.  "  What 
do  you  think?" 

"  I  think  I  would  like  plenty  of  money 
and  city  life  sometimes — never  in  the  sum- 
mer— but  it  would  be  dreadful  to  have  to 
keep  pace  with  the  very  newest  style  in 
everything." 

"  Besides  attending  to  all  the  '  Christian 
work/  "  added  Loraine,  demurely. 

"  Of  course  the  extremes  in — in  every- 
thing must  be  avoided,"  argued  Madge. 
"  My  ideal  lady  is  symmetrical  in  character 
— not  so  good  as  to  be  fanatical  and  not  so 
fashionable  as  to  be  swallowed  up  in  world- 
liness." 


104  THE  SILENT  MAN'S  LEGACY. 

"A  trimmer,  as  you  might  say,  borrow- 
ing from  history." 

Madge  hardly  liked  this  remark  of  Lo- 
raine's,  but  before  she  could  reply  Ruth  ex- 
claimed, 

"There  is  Mary  Parker  sitting  at  her 
chamber  window.  She  sees  us,  and  beckons. 
Let  us  go  in  for  a  little  talk  with  her. — You 
will  like  her  very  much,  Loraine." 

Mary  met  them  at  the  door,  and  the  girls 
seated  themselves  in  the  cozy  chairs  that 
made  the  piazza  so  pleasant  on  an  afternoon 
like  this. 

Loraine  was  greatly  drawn  toward  Mary, 
and  wondered  how  Ruth  could  once  have 
said  that  she — Loraine — reminded  her  of 
Mary.  Both  were  tall  and  pale,  but  there 
was  a  buoyancy  about  Mary,  a  happy,  satis- 
fied expression  on  her  face,  while  Loraine's 
features  when  in  repose  had  over  them  a 
shade  of  sadness  and  her  large  eyes  were 
wistful. 

Madge,  who  could  never  keep  still  long  at 
a  time,  left  the  others  talking  and  went  to 
pick  a  rose  from  a  bush  at  the  end  of  the 
piazza.  The  long  window  of  the  library 


VARIOUS  TOPICS.  105 

was  open,  and  close  by  it  sat  Mr.  Parker. 
Seeing  Madge,  he  put  down  his  paper  and 
greeted  her  cordially.  She  had  always  been 
a  favorite  of  his,  her  bright  ways  amusing 
him  when  as  a  little  child  she  used  to  visit 
Mary : 

"  By  the  way,  Madge,  why  did  you  glower 
so  on  that  poor  little  pedagogue  I  had  in 
here  the  other  day  ?  He  has  brains  enough, 
if  he  is  not  a  Goliath.  I  thought  you  were 
going  to  annihilate  me  for  introducing  him." 

"  Oh  no ;  it  was  his  destruction  I  was 
longing  for  in  murderous  fashion,"  said 
Madge,  laughing.  "  But  I  found  out  after- 
ward that  my  angry  passions  rose  all  for 
nothing :  he  was  innocent  of  the  evil  deeds 
I  laid  to  his  charge." 

"  Tell  me  about  it.  I  suspected  there  was 
something  crooked  somewhere." 

Madge  had  an  impulse  to  evade  a  full 
reply,  her  better  judgment  hinting  that 
enough  had  been  said — at  least,  by  her; 
but  she  reasoned  that  her  motive  was  now  to 
show  how  she  had  misjudged  a  man  whom 
her  father  approved,  and  to  say  something 
in  his  praise. 


106  THE  SILENT  MAN'S  LEGACY. 

Mr.  Parker  had  consented  to  become 
again  an  academy  trustee,  and  could  be  a 
friend  and  counselor  to  the  new  principal. 
He  was  a  very  impulsive  man,  and,  being 
singularly  straightforward  himself,  Madge 
knew  how  he  disliked  anything  underhanded 
in  others.  Prompted,  as  she  tried  to  assure 
herself,  by  a  love  of  fair  play,  she  gave  Mr. 
Parker  an  insight  into  Miss  Elder's  charac- 
ter that  filled  him  with  surprise.  Madge 
had  always  heartily  disliked  the  woman, 
and  it  was  really  a  revengeful  desire  to  give 
that  lady  "  what  she  deserved  "  that  made 
her  tell  Mr.  Parker  of  many  occurrences 
long  past  and  better  forgotten,  of  scenes  in 
which  Miss  Elder  had  played  a  part  not  quite 
honorable.  Madge  assured  herself — while 
her  conscience  reproved  her — that  all  was 
true,  that  her  father  would  never  tell  it, 
since  he  had  been  for  so  long  time  associated 
with  Miss  Elder ;  but  after  she  had  behaved 
so  dishonorably  toward  him  the  truth  might 
as  well  be  known. 

Mr.  Parker  listened  with  a  grave  face,  and 
Madge  secretly  rejoiced  to  think  that  one  of 
the  trustees  had  had  his  eyes  opened.  On  the 


VARIOUS  TOPICS.  107 

way  home  she  reported  a  little  of  what  she 
had  said  to  Ruth,  who  looked  sorry  and 
said, 

"Suppose  Miss  Elder  were  to  lose  her 
place?" 

"  She  made  father  lose  his ;  to  lose  hers 
would  be  a  just  retribution." 

Ruth  hated  to  seem  to  preach  to  anybody, 
so  she  kept  silence  ;  but  Madge  knew  by  her 
troubled  face  that  she  was  thinking  that  per- 
sonal dislike  to  Miss  Elder  had  been  the 
deepest  motive  in  the  late  talk  with  Mr. 
Parker. 

"  I  will  not  say  anything  at  home  about 
it,"  thought  Madge.  "  Perhaps  I  was  too 
hasty,  but  I  told  the  truth;  so  I  will  not 
repent." 

Just  then  the  town-clock  in  the  steeple  of 
the  church  at  the  bottom  of  the  hill  struck 
six,  and  Ruth  hurried  home,  saying, 

"  It  is  my  turn  to  get  supper  to-night, 
Madge ;  so  you  need  not  hasten.  I  am 
only  afraid  mother  has  been  too  prompt 
for  me." 

Madge  and  Loraine  saw  Ruth  quicken  her 
steps,  until,  reaching  home,  she  turned  at 


108  THE  SILENT  MAN'S  LEGACY. 

the   front  door  after  a  word  with   Johnny, 
and  beckoned  to  them  to  hurry. 

"She  has  found  her  work  all  done  and 
supper  ready,  I  presume,"  said  Madge. 
"  Well,  there  was  almost  nothing  to  do,  for 
she  had  everything  prepared." 

Johnny  came  to  meet  them,  and  said, 
"We  are  waiting  for  you.  Mr.  Raynor 
has  come,  Madge,  and  wants  you  to  go  on 
with  him  early  in  the  morning.  Why,  you 
look  as  astonished  as  if  you  had  not  been 
expecting  him  by  rail,  telegraph  and  tele- 
phone every  hour  for  weeks." 

"  But  he  has  come  suddenly,  for  all  that." 
"  My  !  don't  I  wish  I  were  going  to  New 
York  !  I  never  saw  a  ferry-boat  in  my  life," 
muttered  Johnny ;  adding,  "  I  say,  supper  is 
ready  and  waiting,  and  a  good  one  it  is  too, 
if  Abby  did  not  get  it.  Oh  my !  isn't  Mr. 
Raynor  fat?  He  puffed  like  a  porpoise 
when  he  got  to  the  top  of  this  hill,  and  he 
said  if  he  lived  here  he  would  own  a  chariot 
and  chargers." 

Loraine  had  seen  so  little  of  home  hospi- 
tality that  she  found  that  evening  very  pleas- 
ant. Mr.  Raynor  was  one  of  those  jovial, 


VARIOUS  TOPICS.  109 

kindly  men  who  never  get  over  being  boys. 
He  made  grandma  blush  with  honest  praises 
of  her  beauty,  he  enjoyed  Mrs.  Preston's  cook- 
ery because  it  was  like  his  mother's,  and  he 
was  full  of  fun  and  anecdote. 

Madge,  greatly  excited,  laughed,  chattered 
and  exclaimed  to  Loraine, 

"  Mother  was  wise  when  she  made  me  get 
everything  ready  for  my  start  before  he 
came." 

It  was  late  that  evening  when  all  ceased 
to  talk  together  in  the  parlor,  and  later 
still  before  Ruth  had  put  the  last  article  in 
Madge's  trunk  and  Mrs.  Preston  had  given 
her  last  charge  about  being  "  very  careful  of 
your  health,  dear,"  and  "  enjoy  everything 
that  is  good  and  profitable;  but  remember 
that  Ruth  says  she  found  Cousin  Jane's  ideas 
were  not  invariably  in  accordance  with  the 
principles  we  approve.  Don't  follow  blindly 
anybody's  example,  Madge." 

"  Yes,  mother,  but  you  must  remember 
that  sometimes  Ruth's  ideas  and  mine  are 
not  in  accordance,"  laughed  Madge. 

"  That  is  jiot  the  point,  dear.  You  know 
what  is  the  standard  whereby  to  test  every- 


110  THE  SILENT  MAN'S  LEGACY. 

thing — not  my  ideas  nor  Ruth's  nor  the 
Raynors',  but  whatsoever  things  are  true, 
honest,  just,  pure,  lovely  and  of  good  report. 
Madge,  my  child,  I  will  give  you  that  eighth 
verse  of  the  fourth  chapter  of  Philippians 
for  your  motto  until  you  return.  When 
you  are  puzzled  or  tempted,  think  on  these 
things." 

Mrs.  Preston,  tired  out  with  the  day's  un- 
usual effort,  had  sunk  into  the  cushioned 
rocking-chair;  Ruth,  locking  the  trunk, 
perched  herself  on  its  top,  looking  very 
sweet  and  childlike  as  the  soft  lamplight 
fell  on  her  flushed  cheeks  and  her  yellow 
hair.  For  a  minute  Madge  felt  homesick, 
as  if  she  were  already  far  from  this  cozy 
parlor  that  the  girls  still  thought  a  charming 
room,  mellowed  a  good  deal  by  time — carpet 
dull,  curtains  old-fashioned,  nothing  modern 
or  aesthetic  about  it — but  very  homelike, 
as  if  for  years  untold  saturated  with  sum- 
mer's sunshine  and  winter's  cheer. 

"  Oh,  mother,  I  never  am  good  away  from 
home.  I  presume  I  shall  do  worse  things 
in  three  weeks  with  the  Raynors  than  Ruth 
did  all  those  months  she  spent  with  them 


VARIOUS  TOPICS.  Ill 

while  they  were  abroad.  But  Ruth  cannot 
be  vicious." 

"  Oh,  Madge !"  cried  her  sister,  with  real 
pain  in  her  voice.  "You  have  gotten  so 
into  the  way  of  talking  about  me  that  since 
Loraine  came  I  am  ashamed  all  the  time. 
It  looks  as  if  I  had  set  up  a  claim  to  being- 
better  than  other  folks  or  other  girls,  and 
she  knows  I  am  not,  and  what  a  hypo- 
crite— " 

"  Oh  !  oh  !  What  a  hypocrite  you  are, 
Ruth  Preston !  But  if  you  want  to  unde- 
ceive Loraine  and  everybody  else,  I  will  be 
careful  to  explain  that  I  am  the  good,  irre- 
proachable one  and  you  the  deeply,  darkly 
wicked ;"  and,  hugging  Ruth  until  she 
pulled  her  off  her  insecure  position,  Madge 
exclaimed,  "  Everybody  who  sees  your 
treacherous  countenance  will  believe  that." 

"  Children,  you  must  go  to  bed  at  once, 
for  Madge  starts  by  half-past  eight.  Don't 
talk,  but  try  to  go  right  to  sleep." 

The  next  day  dawned  bright  as  the  bright- 
est June  morning  can  dawn,  and  what  more 
need  one  ask  on  earth  ?  There  was  a  dainty 
breakfast,  a  great  vase  of  dew-sprinkled  roses 


112  THE  SILENT  MAN'S  LEGACY. 

on  the  table.  Everybody  talked  cheerily, 
and  eight  o'clock  came  surprisingly  soon. 

When  Madge,  running  up  stairs,  reap- 
peared in  her  traveling-hat,  with  her  little 
basket  on  her  arm,  Mr.  Raynor  surveyed 
her  deliberately  and  solemnly  shook  his  head. 
Her  great  black  eyes  were  first  brilliant  with 
fun,  then  tender  with  leavetaking ;  her 
cheeks  were  like  pink  oleanders,  and  al- 
together she  was  a  girl  so  beautiful  that  the 
sternest  critic  must  find  her  pleasing. 

"It  is  a  great  responsibility,"  muttered 
Mr.  Raynor.  "  I  will  hand  her  over  to 
Mrs.  Raynor  at  the  earliest  possible  moment, 
and  after  five  o'clock  to-night  I  can't  be  re- 
sponsible for  consequences. — Oh,  you  have 
worn  a  veil !  Well,  some  sort  of  an  extin- 
guisher ought  to  be  provided  for  eyes  of  that 
power  and  magnitude. — Time's  up ! — Johnny, 
you  must  come  to  us  next. — Good-bye,  all ! 
— Happy  to  have  met  you,  Miss  Faye. — 
Grandma,  my  mother  would  have  been  just 
your  age,  and  she  was  very  like  you,  so  I 
may  kiss  you." 

Mr.  Raynor,  playfully  pulling  Madge  from 
her  mother,  after  saluting  the  old  lady,  left 


Madge  off  for  New  York. 


Page  112. 


VARIOUS  TOPICS.  113 

them  in  a  small  tumult  of  last  words  and 
stir  about  the  baggage. 

Grandmother  Grey  wondered  what  the 
heavy  little  paper  could  be  that  John  Ray- 
nor  had  thrust  into  her  hand,  whispering, 
"Take  it,  because  I  cannot  ever  give  my 
mother  a  present  any  more."  How  the  old 
lady's  tears  dropped  on  the  five  big  gold- 
en twenty-dollar  pieces  when  she  opened  the 
paper  and  laid  them  out  on  her  Bible-cover ! 
She  had  only  yesterday  learned  by  chance  the 
straitened  condition  of  the  family  finances; 
now  she  could  help  and  not  feel  that  she 
was  making  the  burden  of  expense  heav- 
ier, as  she  might  have  felt  in  spite  of  all 
persuasion  to  the  contrary.  It  was  very 
thoughtful  of  "  Cousin  John,"  as  he  called 
himself,  by  reason  of  a  far-off  relationship. 
He  knew  the  Prestons  had  little,  and  Mrs. 
Preston's  mother  nothing. 

That  was  a  day  of  pure  happiness  to  the 
old  lady.  She  surprised  everybody  by  put- 
ting on  her  Sunday  dress  and  bonnet  and 
walking  off  without  telling  where  she  was 
going.  She  had  been  in  her  day  a  notable 
housekeeper,  and,  now  aware  of  just  what 


114  THE  SILENT  MAN1 'S  LEGACY. 

things  were  most  needed  in  the  family,  she 
went  from  grocery  to  dry  goods  store  with  the 
delight  of  one  who  knows  how  and  what  to 
buy  and  has  a  purse  equal  to  the  occasion. 
She  had  made  sure  of  a  barrel  of  sugar,  a 
barrel  of  flour,  boxes  of  starch,  soap,  and 
similar  articles,  and  was  proceeding  from 
window-curtains,  bedspreads  and  towels  to  a 
new  dress  for  Mrs.  Preston,  when  dinner- 
time came,  and  she  concluded  to  go  home 
and  rest.  She  never  got  back  to  finish  her 
purchases,  for  she  was  found  out  and  made  to 
use  for  herself  the  rest  of  the  money. 


CHAPTER  V. 

ABBY'S  LETTER. 

"  S FORKS,  July  1,  18—. 

DEAE  RUTH :  Your  uncle  Henry  just 
says  to  me  that  he  don't  want  to  talk  no 
more  to-day,  and  that  is  his  polite  way  of 
shutting  me  up,  because  he  hasn't  spoke 
since  midnight  except  to  say  he  wouldn't 
eat  no  more,  and  it's  afternoon  now.  He 
don't  grow  worse,  and  he  don't  grow  better/ 
He  sleeps  a  great  deal,  and  is  patient  enough 
to  drive  a  body  distracted  who  wasn't  used 
to  him  as  I  be.  I  have  just  made  him  com- 
fortable and  left  him  in  peace,  so  will  im- 
prove the  time  writing  to  you. 

"  Some  days  I  do  get  so  lonesome  that  I'd 
even  stand  Johnny  a- tormenting  me  about 
that  miserable  Sirnpkins.  Ruth,  don't  you 
never  tell  him,  but  I  have  had  such  a  trial 
with  a  peddler — Babbitt — here!  I  feel  as 

115 


116  THE  SILENT  MAN'S  LEGACY. 

if  I  shouldn't  dare  try  to  do  good  to  an- 
other widower-man  again  as  long  as  I  live 
— at  least,  till  he  was  well  married.  He  left 
off  bad  language,  and  washed  before-  he 
came  to  meals,  and  agreed  that  gambling 
was  a  bad  habit,  and  did  errands  for  me, 
and  went  and  spoiled  it  all  by  asking  would 
I  marry  him  and  settle  down  at  the  Forks. 
When  he  said  he'd  '  laid  out  the  job  of  re- 
forming' to  please  me,  I  talked  to  him  an 
hour  steady  like  a  Dutch  uncle.  I  tried  to 
work  for  his  poor  soul  and  keep  under  my 
disgust  for  the  homely,  shiftless  coot  himself. 
Settle  at  the  Forks !  Ugh !  I'd  like  to  un- 
settle the  Forks,  whisky-guzzling,  card-play- 
ing, swearing  and  general  Sodom-and-Go- 
morrah  doings  as  there  is  here. 

"The  Bibles  came,  and  we  have  a  class 
every  Sunday  afternoon.  Almost  every 
woman  and  baby  in  the  Forks  attends,  and 
it  is  just  blessed  to  read  the  Lord  Jesus' 
own  words  to  the  poor  discouraged  creatures 
that  don't  find  their  life  worth  enduring.  It 
makes  me  cry  to  see  how  they  try  every 
Sunday  to  tidy  up  a  bit  more  and  to  wash 
the  babies'  faces,  and  last  week  I  got  them  to 


ASSY'S  LETTER.  117 

singing  '  What  a  Friend  we  have  in  Jesus,  all 
our  sins  and  griefs  to  bear!'  I  had  about 
given  up,  and  concluded  that  trouble  had 
crushed  all  the  sing  out  of  them.  Miss 
Peters  let  me  give  them  a  tea-party  last 
week,  and  I  believe  it  is  going  to  be  a  means 
of  grace.  We  invited  them  early,  and  got 
the  house  in  apple-pie  order.  Miss  Peters 
ain't  as  particular  herself  as  she  had  ought 
to  be,  but  some  way  she  is  improving  lately. 
We  had  just  the  best  supper  I  could  get  up, 
and  I  took  extra  pains,  to  have  exactly  the 
sort  of  victuals  any  of  them  could  have  if 
they  only  would  learn  to  cook  it  palatably ; 
and  Miss  Peters  and  I  got  them  all  talking 
about  housekeeping,  nursing  sick  folks,  tak- 
ing care  of  babies  and  setting  a  table  fit  for 
decent  folks  to  enjoy.  I  never  heard  such 
awful  sentiments  as  some  of  them  had,  and  I 
guess  they  was  as  much  surprised  at  some  of 
mine ;  they  seemed  to  be. 

"  There  are  a  few  women  about  the  settle- 
ment that  I  do  suppose  are  awful  wicked. 
These  other  ignorant  ones  despise  them  as 
if  they  were  the  offscourings  of  the  earth,  and 
I  suppose  they  be  just  that;  but  the  poor 


118  THE  SILENT  MAN'S  LEGACY. 

wretched  creatures  have  got  souls,  and  every 
one  of  them  had  a  mother  when  she  was 
little  and  innocent.  Christ  died  for  the 
very  wickedest  of  them,  and  eternity's  ahead 
of  them.  I  can't  get  them  out  of  my  mind.  I 
have  to  pray  over  them  nights  when  I  lie 
awake  for  fear  your  uncle  will  need  me. 
One  day  I  heard  one  of  them  was  sick  in 
a  forsaken  old  hut  without  anybody  belong- 
ing to  her  to  care  for  her  regular ;  some  of 
her  old  companions  and  a  half-Indian  woman 
did  for  her  by  spells.  I  thought  maybe  she'd 
swear  at  me  and  throw  the  broth  on  the  floor 
and  behave  awfully  the  first  time  I  went,  but 
she  stared  and  stared  with  her  great  wild 
eyes,  until  she  took  to  crying  like  a  baby. 
Since  then  she  listens  to  any  amount  of  talk. 
I  told  her  about  her  sins  every  single  time  I 
saw  her,  until  one  day  she  says,  '  You  don't 
begin  to  know  nothing  about  them.  You 
are  so  green  you'd  make  me  laugh  if  I  could 
laugh  any  more.  I  could  tell  you  enough  to 
make  you  stop  your  ears  and  run.  What 
makes  you  try  to  teach  me  what  I  know 
better  than  you  can  ?'  and  such  a  groan  as 
she  gave !  You  better  believe,  Ruth,  I  felt 


ABBY'S  LETTER.  119 

as  if  I  was  wasting  my  time,  and  I  went  at  it 
with  my  whole  heart,  telling  her  about  a 
Saviour  for  her  sins.  She  receives  it  like 
a  little  child.  She  knows  she  has  consump- 
tion and  must  die,  and  nobody  ever  told  her 
what  we  have  always  known.  Two  or  three 
girls  and  women  of  the  same  sort  follow  me 
there  now  and  act  as  if  they  wanted  to  hear 
the  Bible  verses  that  I  read,  and  the  hymns. 
You  know  I  can't  sing  fit  for  decent  folks  to 
hear,  but,  as  long  as  these  aren't  decent,  I 
think  they'll  forget  all  about  me  and  attend 
to  the  gospel  or  the  hymns.  Do  pray  for 
these  poor  lost  souls,  Ruth,  and  thank  God 
for  sending  you  into  a  white,  clean  home. 
"  I  hope  your  mother  is  not  getting  over- 
done with  all  the  care  she  must  have.  Tell 
your  father  I  do  my  very  best  as  a  nurse, 
and  I  wish  I  could  see  a  more  rapid  im- 
provement in  his  brother.  Has  Madge  gone 
to  New  York  ?  and  is  grandmother  well  ?  I 
do  want  to  see  you  all  terribly. 

"  Your  affectionate 

"ABBY." 


CHAPTER  VI. 

AT  COUSIN  RAYNOR'S. 

"If  all  the  year  were  playing  holidays, 
To  sport  would  be  as  tedious  as  to  work  ; 
But  when  they  seldom  come,  they  wished-for  come." 

MR.  RAYNOE,  was  a  very  successful 
business-man,  and  now,  while  compara- 
tively young — or,  at  least,  in  the  prime  of 
life — he  found  himself  rich  according  to 
New  York  standards.  He  was  a  man  of 
the  utmost  morality,  liberal  and  a  regular 
attendant  at  "a  church  whose  congregation 
was  fashionable  enough  to  fulfill  Madge's 
requirements.  His  wife  was  a  good-natured, 
commonplace  mortal  who  easily  accommo- 
dated herself  to  the  luxury  denied  her  in 
earlier  life,  and  who  placidly  admired  any- 
body who  excelled  in  beauty,  in  culture,  or 
even  in  piety. 

The  only  son,  Bert,  had  been  at  times  in 
the  Preston  family  for  several  years.     When 
120 


AT  COUSIN  RAYNOR'S.  121 

a  heedless,  warm -hear  ted,  headstrong  boy 
his  father  put  him  under  the  Professor's 
care  with  excellent  results.  Again,  when,  at 
the  age  of  eighteen,  he  needed  more  wisdom 
in  his  guidance  than  John  Ray  nor  possessed, 
he  stayed  with  the  Prestons  while  his  parents 
traveled  in  Europe.  He  was  just  then  at  a 
critical  stage  in  his  career,  though  no  one 
fully  realized  it  save  Abby,  who  learned  of 
several  escapades  unknown  to  the  rest  of  the 
family.  All  the  same,  the  introduction  of 
Bert  into  that  atmosphere  of  high  living 
and  Christian  thinking  and  his  affection  for 
each  member  of  the  family  changed  in  a 
twelvemonth  all  his  preconceived  ideas  of 
religion  and  all  his  habits.  True,  they  were 
crude  ideas  born  of  ignorance,  but  soon  they 
would  have  become  the  prejudices  of  un- 
belief ;  and  if  his  habits  were  then  more 
follies  than  vices,  they  promised  well  to 
become  the  latter  in  time.  Now,  having 
attained  his  majority,  Bert  was  what  his 
father  was  not — a  professing  Christian,  a 
good  deal  taken  up  with  his  law-studies,  his 
recreations  and  the  claims  of  society,  but 
a  thoroughly  lovable,  well-meaning  fellow. 


122  THE  SILENT  MAN'S  LEGACY. 

Being  young,  handsome  and  his  father's  heir, 
approbation  not  unnaturally  had  made  him 
a  trifle  conceited.  In  the  past  Madge  and 
he  had  been  by  turns  fiercely  belligerent 
and  the  merriest  of  good  comrades.  In 
fact,  they  were  in  both  mental  and  moral 
characteristics  strikingly  alike. 

Madge  had  written  immediately  after  her 
arrival  in  New  York,  and  a  few  days  later, 
telling  in  glowing  terms  of  Cousin  Jane's 
kindness  and  her  enjoyment  of  every  mo- 
ment. Somewhat  later  Ruth  received  from 
her  the  following  letter : 

"DEAR  RUTH,  AND  LOKAINE  TOO:  This 
letter  is  going  to  be  for  you  girls  especially, 
because  I  promised  you  'all  the  particu- 
lars.' 

"  I  don't  see,  Loraine,  what  ever  possessed 
you  to  say  that  New  York  was  '  horrid '  in 
the  summer.  These  June  days  are  lovely 
here,  and  the  streets  are  so  clean  and  all  the 
shop-windows  full  of  beautiful  summer  silks 
and  muslins,  and  such  quantities  of  flowers 
for  sale  on  the  streets !  We  are  only  a  block 
from  Central  Park,  where  every  afternoon 


AT  COUSIN  RATNOR'S.  123 

we  ride  before  dinner;  and  once  Bert  and  I 
took  a  walk  there  before  breakfast.  You 
can  fancy  how  beautiful  the  place  was — the 
grass  like  velvet,  the  trees  full  of  birds,  the 
pretty  lakes  and  shaded  walks  and  pictur- 
esque arbors. 

"  I  can't  tell  you  about  the  Raynors'  house, 
but  oh,  it  is  just  my  ideal  of  a  house !  You 
remember  that  red-haired  Billings  girl  at 
school  who  said  she  was  going  to  write  a 
novel  as  soon  as  she  graduated  and  have  it 
the  story  of  'the  daughter  of  a  lord'  because 
she  did  love  high  life  and  had  read  so  many 
English  novels  that  she  knew  exactly  how 
lords'  daughters  felt  and  talked?  Well,  I 
feel  something  like  Miss  Billings.  I  would 
like  to  live  in  just  as  much  luxury  as  a  lord 
or  a  Wall-street  broker-father  could  supply. 
Don't  you  read  this  nonsense  to  my  blessed 
father,  who  wipes  his  pen  on  the  tail  of  his 
bottle-green  coat  and  doesn't  realize  that  he 
bought  the  coat  when  you  and  I  were  infants 
in  arms.  He  might  think  I  did  not  value 
him.  You  know  'my  heart  is  situated  cor- 
rect,' like  the  chap's  Dickens  tells  about,  but 
riches  are  so  nice !  Why,  picture  my  sur- 


124  THE  SILENT  MAN'S  LEGACY. 

roundings  this  moment !  Rose-colored  silk 
curtains  at  doors  and  windows  under  cream- 
white  lace,  polished  floors,  Turkish  rugs, 
divans  and  cushions,  the  loveliest  cabinets, 
vases,  statuettes,  water-colors,  and  me  in  my 
second-best  white  dress,  which  is  not  a  bit 
too  good  for  a  morning-wrapper.  I  ask 
myself  if  I  am  the  girl  who  ten  days  ago 
washed  this  same  dress  in  Abby's  kitchen 
and  upset  the  washtub,  and  had  to  mop  the 
floor  in  consequence  ;  then  I  step  into  a  sat- 
in-lined carriage,  and  we  dash  down  Fifth 
Avenue,  while  Mrs.  Ray  nor  consults  me 
about  a  five-hundred-dollar  set  of  china  that 
she  means  to  buy,  and  I  advise  her  to  pay 
two  hundred  dollars  more  and  take  one  I 
like  better. 

"  What  is  the  news  from  Abby  ?  If  she 
writes  any  long  letters,  send  them  to  me. 
Sometimes  I  think  I  actually  need  Abby ; 
she  is  the  ballast  to  my  balloon  at  home. 

"  Cousin  Jane  says  she  can't  show  me 
anything  of  New  York  life  because  the 
fashionable  season  is  all  over,  but  everything 
seems  grand  and  gay  to  me.  She  gave  a 
lunch-party  yesterday,  and  from  the  waj 


AT  COUSIN  RAYNOR'S.  125 

she  talked  I  supposed  it  was  to  be  five  or 
six  ladies  in  to  lunch  with  her  quite  simply. 
It  seemed  to  me  a  very  splendid  affair ;  the 
lunch  was  quite  elaborate,  and  just  the  flow- 
ers at  the  ladies'  places  cost  twenty-five 
dollars. 

"When  Mr.  Raynor  said  all  the  star- 
actors  had  gone  from  the  theatres  and  the 
great  singers  from  the  opera-houses,  I  said 
it  made  no  difference  to  me,  because  I  did 
not  expect  to  go  to  such  places.  Perhaps 
you  will  think  I  am  very  weak,  but  I  have 
attended  several  theatrical  performances, 
and  operatic  ones  too.  I  could  not  very 
well  do  any  other  way :  the  tickets  were 
bought  before  I  was  consulted.  Mr.  Raynor 
says  he  drops  into  such  places  after  a  hard 
day's  business  just  to  rest  and  laugh  a  little, 
and  he  does  not  see  that  he  ever  was  harmed 
by  going,  and  that  Cousin  Jane  and  he  keep 
'  pretty  respectable.' 

"  Bert  is  himself,  but  improved ;  we  get 
on  capitally  together.  He  is  more  dignified 
than  he  used  to  be,  reads  considerable,  be- 
longs to  the  Young  Men's  Christian  Associa- 
tion, though  Cousin  Jane  says  he  'is  not 


126  THE  SILENT  MAN'S  LEGACY. 

tediously  pious/  if  you  know  what  that  is ; 
fanatical,  perhaps. 

"Cousin  Jane  is  very  kind  to  me.  She 
has  made  me  some  handsome  presents  which 
I  feel  embarrassed  to  take,  but  she  knows 
that  I  love  pretty  things  and  cannot  afford 
many  of  them.  She  says  she  likes  to  give 
me  what  costs  her  no  sacrifice,  and  that  it  is 
nonsense  for  me  to  be  so  scrupulous.  I  am 
afraid  some  days  that —  Well,  I  do  not 
think,  Ruth,  that  there  are  many  people  in 
the  world  so  particular  as  our  parents  are, 
and  so  unworldly.  Cousin  Jane  would 
rather  die,  she  says,  than  be  poor.  Well, 
perhaps  I  should  feel  that  way  if  once  I 
were  to  be  very  rich. 

"Ruth,  what  do  you  suppose  mother 
would  say  if  the  Raynors  wanted  (really 
wanted)  me  to  spend  the  whole  summer  with 
them — not  in  New  York,  but  to  travel  with 
them?  I  feel  it  in  the  air  that  they  are 
thinking  of  proposing  this,  and  Cousin  Jane 
says  she  is  going  to  write  to  mother  to-day,  I 
suspect  on  this  very  subject.  Oh,  Ruth,  if 
she  does,  will  you  not  beg  father  and  mother 
to  let  me  go  ?  I  never  have  seen  anything, 


AT  COUSIN  RAZOR'S.  127 

you  know,  and  you  have  been  all  over  Eu- 
rope." 

Madge  filled  the  rest  of  the  long  letter 
with  an  account  of  a  trip  to  Coney  Island 
and  with  details  of  life  in  the  Raynor  house- 
hold, interesting  to  Ruth,  but  of  no  import- 
ance in  our  story.  When  she  had  finished 
and  sent  her  letter,  she  took  a  new  magazine 
and  ensconced  herself  in  a  great  easy-chair 
by  the  window  to  read.  It  was  too  warm  a 
day  for  much  exercise.  She  had  been  in  a 
very  happy  mood  when  she  began  her  letter, 
but  something  now  filled  her  with  a  vague 
discontent.  She  began  to  think  that  she 
did  not  want  to  spend  the  summer  with  the 
Raynors,  after  all,  because  of  the  discomforts 
of  being,  in  a  certain  way,  in  a  false  posi- 
tion. Only  yesterday  the  youngest  lady  at 
the  lunch-party  had  talked  to  her  as  if 
everybody  wore  diamonds  and  went  to  the 
mountains  or  the  seaside  in  summer.  To 
fall  into  sympathetic  converse  with  such 
persons  was  hypocritical ;  to  keep  explain- 
ing that  she  had  no  diamonds,  was  having 
her  first  pleasure-trip  and  had  been,  was 


128  THE  SILENT  MAN'S  LEGACY. 

and  always  might  be  "  poor  "  was  downright 
humiliating — to  Madge. 

"  I  have  no  idea,"  she  reflected,  "  but  that 
Ruth  would  glide  out  of  such  difficult  places 
as  easily  as  she  would  truthfully.  I  don't 
believe  that  girl  could  ever  understand  that 
she  was  poor  unless  her  stomach  positively 
ached  with  hunger." 

Perhaps,  if  Mrs.  Preston  had  realized  the 
undue  value  which  Madge  just  at  this  time 
in  her  girlhood  was  putting  on  what  to  Mrs. 
Preston  herself  were  the  mere  externals  of 
life,  she  would  have  kept  her  at  home.  She 
fancied  that  Madge  would  enjoy  New  York 
in  the  whole-souled,  merry  way  that  she 
usually  took  any  novelty,  returning  with  the 
old  zest  to  their  simple  home-life;  but  the 
truth  was  that  Madge  had  never  learned,  as 
had  poor  Loraine,  how  rare  as  well  as  how 
blessed  is  a  perfect  home.  The  Preston 
home  was  in  Madge's  estimation  just  like 
the  generality  of  "  plain  "  people's  homes ; 
only,  being  her  own,  she  loved  it  best. 
That  her  father  was  a  Christian  gentleman 
as  well  as  a  scholar  was  a  matter  of  course, 
as  was  the  fact  of  her  mother's  being  lovely, 


AT  COUSIN  RAYNOE'S.  129 

wise,  and  a  lady  in  the  real  sense  of  that 
much-abused  word. 

The  pages  of  the  magazine  were  uncut 
while  the  young  girl  fell  into  a  long  revery, 
out  of  which  she  started  at  last  thinking, 
"  Cousin  Jane  will  wonder  at  me.  I  prom- 
ised to  change  that  stiff-looking  bow  on  her 
new  dress."  She  laid  aside  her  book  and 
started  down  stairs,  her  slippers  making  no 
sound  on  the  soft  carpet.  Hearing  Mrs. 
Raynor's  voice  in  conversation,  she  supposed 
that  a  caller  might  be  in  the  parlor,  and  so 
entered  the  library,  opposite.  A  moment 
after,  she  knew  that  Mr.  Kay  nor  was  at 
home,  for  Cousin  Jane  was  saying, 

"I  like  Madge  very  much,  and  I  under- 
stand her  better  than  I  do  Ruth." 

"  Well,  then,  if  things  ever  take  that 
turn,  you'll  be  satisfied,  I  suppose.  She 
is  downright  handsome,  for  one  thing." 

Madge  turned  to  retreat  without  a  thought 
of  lingering  as  an  eavesdropper,  but  she 
could  not  help  hearing  one  sentence  more: 

<;Yes,  I  would  rather  that  Bert  should 
not  fancy  one  of  these  extravagant,  fast 
New  .York  girls." 

9 


130  THE  SILENT  MAN'S  LEGACY. 

When  Madge  reached  her  room  again,  her 
cheeks  were  crimson  with  confusion.  She 
tried  to  believe  that  she  did  not  understand 
what  she  had  heard.  The  Preston  girls  had 
been  too  carefully  reared  and  were  by  nature 
too  delicate  to  be,  as  are  many  silly  girls, 
for  ever  jesting  about  beauty,  courtship 
and  marriage.  If  they  thought  of  the  last 
at  all,  it  was  as  of  some  far-off  contingency 
about  which  there  would  be  time  enough 
to  think  when  occasion  required.  They  had 
lived  too  busy,  happy  and  useful  lives  for  the 
mawkish  sentiment  or  the  coarse  nonsense 
and  flirtation  in  which  too  many  vulgar 
schoolgirls  are  early  adepts.  But  Madge 
knew  that  she  had  understood  exactly  what 
John  Raynor  and  his  wife  were  this  moment 
discussing — the  possibility  of  their  son's 
wishing  some  time  to  marry  her,  Madge 
Preston.  She  was  indignant.  Bert  was  to 
her  a  gay,  outspoken  companion,  just  as  he 
had  been  since  they  had  played  together  as 
children.  What  right  had  his  parents  to  be 
talking  thus  of  him  or  of  her  ?  She  did  not 
expect  to  marry  anybody  for  years,  and  no- 
body had  any  business  to  be  assigning  her 


AT  COUSIN  RAYNOR'S.'  131 

to  any  young  man  without  as  much  as  a 
"  By  your  leave."  She  wished  she  were 
home  feeling  like  a  little  girl  again. 

It  was  well  that  luncheon  was  late  that 
noon,  for  Madge  was  decidedly  out  of  sorts 
and  not  at  once  able  to  talk  unconstrainedly; 
as  it  was,  Cousin  Jane  told  her  that  she 
looked  as  if  she  were  feeling  the  heat  very 
much.  After  luncheon  Mrs.  Raynor  said 
that  it  was  "quite  too  hot  for  anything  but 
a  nap,"  and  accordingly  retired  to  her  own 
room,  saying, 

"  It  will  be  cooler  later,  and  about  sunset 
we  can  go  for  a  drive." 

Madge  was  glad  to  be  alone.  She  resolved 
to  enjoy  her  visit  to  the  utmost  for  the  next 
ten  days,  and  then  to  decline  any  invitation 
to  prolong  it.  She  would  drop  a  note  in  the 
morning  to  her  mother,  telling  her  to  with- 
hold her  consent  should  the  Raynors  consult 
her  about  keeping  Madge  with  them  for  the 
summer. 

"I  can  explain  it  to  mother  when  I  get 
home.  She  will  understand  how  disagree- 
able it  would  be  for  me  if  the  Raynors  had 
this  idea  that  probably  never  entered  Bert's 


132  THE  SILENT  MAN'S  LEGACY. 

head  unless  they  put  it  there.  If  it  should 
be  there,  all  the  worse,  for  I  like  Bert  just 
as  I  like  Johnny,  only  not  half  as  well — no, 
not  quarter.  Yes,  I  think  I  will  go  home. 
Ruth  and  Loraine  are  enjoying  themselves, 
I  presume." 

A  few  hours  later  the  Raynors'  elegant 
open  carriage  stood  waiting  to  take  the  fam- 
ily for  their  after-dinner  drive  in  the  Park. 

"  I  suppose  there  is  hardly  anybody  that 
is  anybody  left  in  town,"  remarked  Cousin 
Jane  as  her  son  followed  her  down  the  steps, 
Mr.  Raynor  having  already  seated  Madge  in 
the  carriage. 

"  No,"  replied  Bert ;  "  almost  every  turn- 
out last  night  in  the  Park  was  the  family 
ark  of  a  butcher,  baker  or  candlestick-maker, 
or  else  a  hired  carriage  filled  with  people 
from  out  of  town." 

"Is  a  person  from  out  of  town  so 
marked  ?"  laughed  Madge.  "  Does  every- 
body who  looks  at  me  know  that  I  am  from 
the  country  ?" 

"  Oh,  you  have  found  out  already  that 
everybody  looks  at  you,  have  you?"  ex- 
claimed Bert,  in  the  old  teasing  way  that 


AT  COUSIN  KAYNOR'S.  133 

Madge  was  pleased  with  to-night,  it  was  so 
opposed  to  anything  sentimental. 

"  Well,  I  declare !  Everybody  has  not 
gone,"  said  Mrs.  Ray  nor  as  they  turned  into 
the  Park.  "  There  is  Mrs.  Moultrop. — See 
the  style  there,  Madge." 

Madge  had  just  glanced  at  the  great  black- 
and-yellow- trimmed  carriage,  the  coachman 
and  footman  with  yellow-rosettes  to  match ; 
last  of  all,  the  lady  and  the  dog  on  the 
seat. 

"  That  is  one  of  the  richest  women  in 
New  York  City.  She  was  a  poor  school- 
teacher on  a  salary  of  three  hundred  dollars 
a  year  when  she  met  Thirteen  Million — or 
Billion.  He  liked  her  pretty  face,  and  she 
liked  the  ciphers  to  his  unit — he  is  the  most 
dried-up  little  unit  you  ever  saw  out  of  the 
arithmetic — so  she  married  him." 

Bert  gave  this  information  after  the  car- 
riage passed,  and  his  mother  added, 

"  Well,  she  has  the  most  magnificent 
mansion  that  she  knew  how  to  devise,  and  I 
don't  believe  she  pines  after  school-teaching. 
I  do  think  that  is  about  the  most  wearing 
life  a  woman  can  have,  growing  old  beating 


134  THE  SILENT  MAN'S  LEGACY. 

ABC  into  dull  brains  and  growing  prim 
and  schoolmarmy  herself." 

"  I  am  going  to  be  a  teacher.  I  wonder 
if  I  shall  get  very  tired  of  it — if  people  will 
after  a  while  find  me  sharp  and  prim  like 
Miss  Elder  ?  It  is  drudgery,  and  poor  father 
has  grown  weary  in  doing  it,  and  has  always 
stayed  poor.  Oh  dear !  how  I  am  getting  to 
hate  poverty !  How  lovely  it  is  to  be  rolling 
over  these  charming  roads  and  to  be  as  rich 
as  the  Raynors  themselves  are  !" 

A  sudden  thought  flashed  into  Madge's 
mind — a  startling  new  connection  of  the 
ideas  that  had  that  afternoon  beset  her — a 
thought  how  wealth  might,  after  all,  be  hers. 
She  was  very  pale  and  quiet  for  the  rest  of 
the  drive. 

It  was  delightfully  cool,  and  the  prettiest 
turns  and  cross-roads  were  chosen  in  order 
that  Madge  might  have  new  views  of  groves, 
lakes,  dells  and  wide  sweeps  of  lawn.  She 
admired  everything  pointed  out,  but  not  in 
any  drive  before  had  she  seen  so  little.  The 
amber  sunset-light  that  filled  every  avenue, 
the  exquisite  tree-shadows,  the  bird-song, 
even  the  little  boats  afloat  on  a  surface  blue 


AT  COUSIN  EAYNOE'S.  135 

as  the  sky,  were  less  real  to  her  than  were 
certain  ideal  pictures  taking  on  sharp  out- 
lines and  vivid  coloring  in  her  imagination. 
Little  she  realized  that  the  greatest  tempta- 
tion of  her  life  was  creeping  toward  her — 
the  ugly  passion,  greed  of  gold,  disguised 
in  its  most  attractive  form. 

It  was  quite  dark  when  the  party  returned 
home,  and  after  a  not  very  animated  stay  in 
the  parlor  the  various  members  of  the  family 
retired  for  the  night. 

"  What  would  mother  say  if  she  knew  of 
what  I  am  thinking  ?"  murmured  Madge  an 
hour  later,  turning  from  the  long  mirror  in 
her  chamber  and  recalling  her  mother's 
motto,  given  her  the  night  before  she  left 
home.  She  looked  about  for  her  Bible, 
found  it  and  turned  to  Philippians,  fourth 
chapter.  The  verse  quoted  by  her  mother 
did  not  fix  her  attention  then  as  did  some 
other  passages  that  she  had  forgetten : 

"  *  Be  careful  for  nothing ;  but  in  every- 
thing by  prayer  and  supplication  with  thanks- 
giving let  your  requests  be  made  known  unto 
God.'  That  is  the  way  mother  does  pray,  re- 
membering all  her  mercies — as  she  calls  them 


136  THE  SILENT  MAN'S  LEGACY. 

— in  the  past.  Well,  I  ought  to  be  thankful  for 
mine. — '  Let  your  requests  be  made  known.' 
Mother's  requests  are  for  blessings  on  her 
children  and  the  poor  and  the  sick  and  the 
wicked,  and  for  daily  bread.  If  I  really 
made  known  to  God  to-night  my  requests 
— if  I  dared  do  it — I  should  ask  for  a  grand 
house  like  this,  servants,  horses  and  carriages, 
diamonds  and  unlimited  money. — 'And  the 
peace  of  God  which  passeth  all  understanding- 
shall  keep  your  hearts  and  minds  through 
Christ  Jesus.'  When  ?  Why,  after  offering 
such  a  prayer  as  that  first,  and  living  in  the 
spirit  of  it,  no  doubt."  She  read  along  far- 
ther, to  the  words,  "  For  I  have  learned,  in 
whatsoever  state  I  am,  therewith  to  be  con- 
tent," and  commented,  "  So  has  mother  and 
grandmother — yes,  and  Ruth.  So  have  not  I ! 
I  wonder  if  that  is  why  they  are  not  pulled 
this  way  and  that — why  father  does  not  get 
cross  and  out  of  patience  when  he  reflects 
how  upright  he  has  always  been,  and  that  now 
here  he  is  left  poor  and  without  a  way  to  turn 
himself?"  Her  glance  fell  again  on  the  page: 
"  But  my  God  shall  supply  all  your  need  ac- 
cording to  his  riches  in  glory  by  Christ  Jesus." 


AT  COUSIN  RAYNOR'S.  137 

Although  Madge  was  far  from  knowing 
by  experience  what  was  the  life  of  a  conse- 
crated follower  of  her  Lord  and  Master,  yet 
the  root  of  the  matter  was  in  her,  and  as  she 
shut  her  Bible  there  came  to  her  an  awe- 
stricken  consciousness  that  her  "  need  "  was 
not  gold,  but  grace — not  the  coming  into 
possession  of  marketable  treasures,  but  the 
recognition  of  unvalued  blessings  that  were 
hers  already.  She  lay  awake  very  late, 
sometimes  resolving  to  go  home  and  be  "  so 
good,  helping  them  all,  never  acting  as  if  it 
were  not  delightful  to  pinch  and  scrimp  and 
economize,"  saying  to  herself, 

"  I  will  put  my  whole  heart  into  teaching, 
and  delight  Mrs.  Allen  so  that  she  will  find 
me  invaluable.  Then  I  can  help  father 
more  and  more  every  year,  and  Ruth  can 
stay  with  mother." 

Again,  as  in  the  Park  that  evening,  she 
mused  with  secret  self-disgust: 

"What  if  I  do  not  care  anything  about 
Bert  Raynor?  I  do  not  like  any  one  else, 
and  his  people  would  make  my  life  a  perfect 
holiday,  and  I  should  have  money  to  help 
them  all  at  home.  I — I  can  influence  Bert 


138  THE  SILENT  MAN'S  LEGACY. 

Raynor;  I  know  all  his  weak  points.  He 
knows  mine  too,  no  doubt ;  but  Abby  says  I 
could  always  get  him  into  mischief  if  there 
were  any  chance  for  it.  Oh  dear !  I  wish  I 
had  stayed  at  home,  or  else  I  just  wish  I 
could  revel  in  poverty  and  make  it  blossom 
as  the  rose.  That  is  what  Ruth  does." 


CHAPTER  VII. 

BAD  NEWS  FOR  MADOE. 

"  Not  wholly  is  thy  heart  resigned 

To  Heaven's  benign  and  just  decree, 
Which,  linking  thee  with  all  thy  kind, 
Transmits  their  joys  and  griefs  to  thee. 

"  Self-ease  is  pain ;  thy  only  rest 
Is  labor  for  a  worthy  end." 

WHITTIEB. 

"JULY,  18—. 

"  T\EAR  MADGE :  You  have  not  writ- 
U  ten  us  what  you  have  decided  to  do 
about  coming  home.  Mother  waited  to  hear 
from  you  after  getting  Cousin  Jane's  letter ; 
but  when  you  wrote,  we  could  not  make  out 
whether  or  not  you  were  desirous  of  accept- 
ing her  invitation.  If  you  want  very  much 
to  go  to  the  seaside  with  them,  mother  is 
quite  willing  that  you  should  do  so.  I  can't 
understand  how  it  is  that  you  do  not  seem 
to  know  your  own  mind,  for  you  are  usually 
very  prompt  in  your  decisions.  Of  course 

139 


140  THE  SILENT  MAN'S  LEGACY. 

Loraine  and  I  hope  that  you  will  come  home 
and  help  us  enjoy  ourselves. 

"  It  seems  as  if  Loraine  belongs  here,  she 
fits  in  so  well.  She  gets  into  father's  study 
and  interests  herself  in  his  books.  (You 
know  she  is  very  well  read  and  her  father 
had  a  great  library.)  Well,  she  stirs  up  our 
father  to  talk,  and  gets  him  as  animated  as 
possible.  She  goes  fishing  with  Johnny  in 
the  woods  while  I  am  helping  mother  about 
the  house — that  is,  when  we  positively  forbid 
her  dusting  and  trying  to  help — and  after- 
noons we  have  charming  visits  and  drives  to- 
gether. Mary  Parker  comes  for  us  almost 
every  day  with  her  basket-phaeton,  and, 
fortunately,  we  are  each  thin  enough  to  get  in 
comfortably.  We  had  a  picnic  not  long  ago 
at  Blodgett's  Creek,  and  grandmother  went. 
She  let  us  row  her  out  on  the  water,  and 
told  us  about  the  first  picnic  that  she  ever 
attended,  sixty-five  years  ago. 

"  Since  coming  here  Loraine  has  made  up 
her  mind  that  she  would  like  to  be  a  teacher. 
(You  know  that  she  has  plenty  of  means  to 
live  an  idle  life  or  to  interest  herself  in  any- 
thing without  supporting  herself.)  One  even- 


BAD  NEWS  FOR  MADGE.  141 

ing  we  were  invited  to  a  small  party  at  the 
Barkers'.  Miss  Elder  was  there,  and,  al- 
though she  treated  me  very  coolly,  she  went 
out  of  her  way  to  be  agreeable  to  Loraine. 
That  night,  after  we  came  home,  Loraine 
seemed  much  interested  in  her  as  a  charac- 
ter-study. She  said  it  seemed  strange  that  a 
woman  so  thoroughly  furnished  with  book- 
knowledge,  with  considerable  tact  and  hav- 
ing very  great  ambition,  should  not  have 
been  a  better  teacher.  I  have  never  told  her 
of  Miss  Elder's  peculiarities,  but  she  knows 
that  no  one  speaks  or  thinks  of  her  as  Mrs. 
Allen's  pupils  love  and  reverence  her.  She 
asked  father  why  Miss  Elder  failed,  and  he 
evaded  telling ;  but  he  did  give  her  his  ex- 
planation of  the  success  of  certain  other 
teachers  like  Mrs.  Allen — women  who  them- 
selves are  just  what  they  try  to  teach  young 
girls  to  become.  Since  then  Loraine  talks  to 
me  with  mingled  fun  and  earnestness  of  the 
institution  which  she  will  some  time  found 
and  preside  over. 

"Abby  writes  that  Uncle  Henry  is  just 
about  the  same,  or,  if  there  is  a  change,  that 
it  is  not  for  the  better. 


142  THE  SILENT  MAN'S  LEGACY. 

"  Father  does  not  hear  of  any  opening 
whatever  for  the  future.  Mother  says  that 
we  had  better  both  go  back  to  Mrs.  Allen's 
if  she  can  give  us  employment;  even  if  I 
earn  less  than  any  other  teacher  there,  it  will 
be  something. 

"  This  is  a  dull  letter,  Madge,  but  I  need 
you  to  make  me  lively.  The  fact  is,  I  am 
made  a  little  mournful  by  the  very  efforts 
that  father  and  mother  make  to  keep  bright 
and  cheerful.  They  carefully  avoid  a  word 
about  the  future,  which  shows  that  both  are 
keenly  alive  to  the  question,  'What  shall  a 
family  eat,  drink  and  wear  when  there  is  not 
a  penny  coming  in  for  food  and  raiment?' 
There  is  such  a  '  depravity,'  too,  '  about  in- 
animate things,'  as  somebody  says,  in  a  time 
like  this !  The  pump  breaks,  the  corporation 
sends  word  that  we  need  a  new  sidewalk,  the 
chimney  blows  over  and  the  roof  leaks,  not 
to  mention  that  the  grate  of  the  kitchen 
stove  has  fallen  in  pieces.  But  we  are  all 
well  and  the  sun  shines.  I  suppose,  too, 
these  are  just  the  times  when  it  is  intended 
that  we  shall  take  the  Bible  promises  and 
rest  on  them." 


BAD  NEWS  FOE  MADGE.  143 

There  was  another  sheet  of  Ruth's  letter, 
but  after  reading  thus  far  Madge  dropped  it 
in  her  lap,  while  a  shade  of  annoyance  crept 
over  her  beautiful  face : 

"  Ruth  must  be  spiritually-minded  if  she 
can  keep  placid  on  Bible  promises  with  every- 
thing about  the  house  giving  out.  If  I  could 
help,  I  would  go  right  home ;  but  perhaps  I 
help  more  by  staying  away  from  them.  I 
wonder  if  I  am  just  drifting,  or  if  I  am  being, 
as  grandmother  says,  '  led,'  in  concluding  to 
go  with  the  Raynors,  knowing — all  I — 
may — " 

Madge  colored  at  her  own  thoughts,  and, 
stooping,  picked  up  the  last  page  of  Ruth's 
letter,  written  a  day  later.  It  began : 

"  Oh,  Madge,  I  am  so  grieved  by  some- 
thing I  have  just  heard  that  I  should  sit 
down  and  cry  like  a  baby  if  it  were  not 
for  disheartening  poor  mother.  I  know  you 
will  feel  even  worse,  for  you  were  sure  of 
your  engagement  with  Mrs.  Allen.  She  has 
given  up  her  seminary — sold  it  out — and 
leaves  the  country  in  a  week  or  two  to  live 
abroad  indefinitely.  You  remember  her 
only  daughter  married  a  banker  in  Edin- 


144  THE  SILENT  MAN'S  LEGACY. 

burgh  ?  Well,  she  has  become  a  confirmed 
invalid — almost  bedridden — and  there  is  no 
one  to  care  for  her  three  little  children. 
Mrs.  Allen  has  decided  that  her  duty  is 
there.  Mother  had  a  letter  from  her  last 
night,  and  she  says  that  she  tried  to  get  us 
places  to  teach  under  the  new  dispensation 
at  the  seminary,  but  it  is  to  be  a  Church 
school  in  charge  of  the  bishop,  and  the 
teachers  must  be  members  of  the  Episcopal 
Church.  This  rule,  of  course,  would  ex- 
clude us.  In  all  Mrs.  Allen's  haste  and 
business  plans  she  is  kind  as  ever,  and  says 
she  will  do  her  best  to  find  us  positions 
somewhere.  We  must  do  something,  Madge. 
There  is  the  district  school  at  Knox  Corners ; 
mother  says  she  thinks  one  of  us  might  get 
that  through  Mr.  Parker's  influence.  I  will 
talk  with  him.  If  you  can  do  better,  I 
might  manage  that." 

For  a  moment  or  two  Madge  could  not 
fully  grasp  the  meaning  of  what  Ruth  had 
written;  she  seemed  to  have  come  suddenly 
into  the  stifling  folds  of  a  thick  curtain 
dropped  across  a  way  she  had  seen  to  be 
open  and  tolerably  pleasant.  Could  it  be 


SAD  NEWS  FOR  MADGE.  145 

possible  that  all  those  bright  school-days 
were  ended?  Teaching  under  Mrs.  Allen 
meant  living  in  a  second  home  and  enjoy- 
ing many  things  unattainable  in  her  actual 
home.  True,  she  had  come  to  look  at  her 
prospective  life  there  as  compulsory  on 
account  of  the  domestic  economy,  but  she 
had  always  known  that  no  hardship  was 
involved.  Now,  when  she  had  lost  this 
future  which  she  supposed  was  assured  to 
her,  it  all  at  once  seemed  doubly  bright 
and  agreeable. 

"  The  Knox  Corners  district  school !  Oh, 
horrors !"  she  gasped  as  a  picture  of  it  rose 
before  her  fancy. 

Two  miles  from  the  home  of  the  Prestons 
stood  a  bare  yellow  wooden  building  where 
the  sun  glared  in  summer  and  around  which 
the  winds  howled  in  winter,  for  not  a  tree 
protected  it  from  either  the  heat  or  the  cold. 
Often  Madge  had  pitied  the  teacher  pent  up 
there  with  fifty  or  more  stupid,  saucy  un- 
kempt boys  and  girls  of  every  nationality. 
She  never  could  submit  to  such  surround- 
ings— never — and  Ruth  was  absurd  to  men- 
tion it  as  possible  for  herself;  they  were 
10 


146  THE  SILENT  MAN'S  LEGACY. 

fitted  for  far  finer  work  than  that.  But 
into  her  hot  disgust  came  the  chilling  re- 
flection, 

"Where  can  we  find  what  we  like,  and 
how  long  can  we  wait?  If  we  don't  get  a 
school  in  the  fall,  there  is  small  chance  of 
one  for  the  rest  of  the  year.  Oh  dear ! 
why  could  not  Mrs.  Allen's  daughter  stay 
well  ?  Why  was  that  bothersome  Sedgewick 
man  raised  up  to  displace  father?  How 
can  people  keep  patient  and  believe  that  all 
things  work  together  for  good,  as  grand- 
mother is  always  saying?  I  think  every- 
thing with  us  is  working  for  evil." 

Madge  was  sitting  alone  in  an  elegant  lit- 
tle reception-room.  By  her  great  soft  easy- 
chair  stood  a  table  of  hothouse  roses ;  with- 
in reach  of  her  hand  a  rack  of  pictures — 
photographs  of  famous  paintings,  fine  cathe- 
drals, Swiss  and  Italian  scenery.  Against  a 
crimson  satin  curtain  stood  a  dainty  statue 
visible  again  in  the  mirror  over  the  carved 
wooden  mantel.  Madge  herself  was  re- 
flected in  that  wide  glass,  and  she  was  not 
wholly  unconscious  that  she  helped  to  make 
up  a  pretty  picture.  Suppose,  instead  of 


BAD  NEWS  FOR  MADGE.  147 

this  "  harmony  "  with  her  "  environment," 
she  were  sitting  at  a  battered  desk,  a  dirty 
spelling-book  in  her  hand,  her  ears  tortured 
with  shrill  voices,  flies  bumping  on  the  cur- 
tainless  windows  of  the  old  schoolhonse? 
No ;  she  could  not,  and  would  not,  endure 
that. 

"Well,  this  is  the  first  cool  spot  I  have 
found  since  morning,"  exclaimed  Bert,  with 
a  sigh  of  satisfaction  dropping  into  a  great 
willow  chair.  "The  street  is  like  a  bake- 
oven.  It  is  high  time  we  were  out  of  the 
city." 

" «  We ' !"  echoed  Madge.  "  I  thought  that 
you  stayed  here  almost  all  summer.  Do  gen- 
tlemen run  away  from  their  business  ?" 

"  That  depends.  Sometimes  the  business 
runs  away  from  the  gentlemen — as,  for  in- 
stance, that  of  Dr.  Lord,  over  the  way." 

"Why,  are  not  people  ill  here  in  sum- 
mer ?" 

"Oh,  plenty  of  vulgar  common  folks," 
laughed  Bert ;  "  but  Dr.  Lord's  patients  are 
off  for  Europe  or  for  the  mountains,  and  he 
follows.  I  might  find — and  usually  have 


148  THE  SILENT  MAN'S  LEGACY. 

found — enough  to  do,  but  this  summer  I 
think  I  need  a  vacation;  or,  rather,  you 
need  me  to  see  that  you  properly  enjoy 
yours.  Mother  never  climbs  mountains  or 
takes  sails,  or  does  anything  but  sit  on  hotel 
piazzas  and  crochet." 

"  I  have  not  yet  decided  to  go,  Bert." 

"  Ah,  indeed  !  Well,  then,  neither  have 
I;"  and  Bert  laughed  as  boyishly  as  ever. 

"Oh,  I  can  get  along  beautifully  without 
you,  and  I  fear  you  may  be  needed  by  your 
— your  clients,  do  they  call  them?" 

"  They  might  be  so  called  if  they  existed 
outside  one's  imagination.  But  why  do  you 
hesitate  about  going?  Homesick?" 

Madge  took  up  a  photograph  of  Dryburgh 
Abbey  and  seemed  to  be  studying  it  a  while 
before  she  spoke  again,  saying, 

"  Will  you  go  with  me  to-morrow  to  one 
of  the  educational  agencies  or  bureaus  ?  I 
want  to  apply  for  a  position  as  a  teacher 
somewhere  next  September.  They  have  ap- 
plications for  supplies,  you  know.  I  have — 
I  am  not  going  back  to  Mrs.  Allen's." 

Bert  was  about  to  say,  "  I  wish  that  you 
did  not  have  to  teach,"  but,  remembering  the 


SAD  NEWS  FOB  MADGE.  149 

Preston  finances,  he  from  motives  of  delica- 
cy refrained.  He  guessed  without  knowing 
that  every  year  had  increased  expenses  and 
made  living  harder  for  the  Professor: 

"  Is  "Ruth  too  going  to  be  a  little  school- 
marm  ?" 

"  Not  if  I  can  help  it." 

"  She  would  make  a  capital  one — really, 
an  ideal  one,"  continued  Bert.  "  I  can  fancy 
her  taking  some  backwoods  ruffians  and 
taming  them,  when  they  would  pitch  a 
man  out  of  the  window.  She  would  do 
it  unconsciously,  just  as  they  would  submit. 
Wild  beasts  never  fight  a  sunbeam :  they 
caress  it  playfully  and  try  to  get  into  its 
warmth.  You —  Well,  you  would  do  admi- 
rably with  a  lot  of  stylish  girls,  I  presume." 

'*  Why  ?"  asked  Madge,  without  any  pique 
in  her  tone. 

"  Because  you  are  not  so  fine  and  spirited 
as  Ruth,  but  you  are  genuine  after  your 
fashion,  and  they  would  like  and  admire 
you,"  returned  the  young  man,  thinking, 
as  he  always  had  thought,  how  pretty  Madge 
was,  and  how  pleasant.  She,  for  her  part, 
paid  no  attention  to  his  last  words,  but  said, 


150  THE  SILENT  MAN'S  LEGACY. 

"  I  don't  know  what  rough,  ugly  natures 
would  become  in  contact  with  Ruth,  but  I 
know  how  she  would  suffer  among  them." 

"  No,  she  would  not :  the  sunbeam  gives, 
but  it  does  not  lose." 

"  Nonsense,  Bert !  Don't  try  to  be  poet- 
ical ;  that  is  not  in  you." 

"  Very  well ;  then  let  us  talk  about  our 
summer  programme.  In  the  daytime  we 
will  hunt,  fish,  swim,  climb  and  soar — more 
or  less.  In  the  evening —  Well,  in  the 
hotels  the  sentimental  young  people  look 
at  the  moon." 

"I  have  had  astronomy  in  my  school- 
course — " 

"  Exactly,  but  this  is  an  advanced  course 
— looking  for  the  man  in  the  moon,  you 
imow." 

"  Why,  you  are  worse  when  you  try  to  be 
funny  than  when  you  mean  to  be  poeti — " 

"  Then  the  other  young  ladies  dance,"  con- 
tinued Bert,  staring  at  the  stand  of  roses  in 
a  meditative  way  before  he  inquired,  "  Does 
Ruth  dance  ?" 

"  Oh,  we  girls  at  school  used  to  dance  in 
the  gymnasium,  just  as  we  tried  all  sorts 


SAD  NEWS  FOR  MADGE.  151 

of  exercises.  You  know  neither  of  us  has 
ever  had  any  experience  in  what  is  really 
society." 

"  I  can't  imagine  Ruth  hot  and  disheveled 
bouncing  around  a  dusty  ballroom." 

"Ninety-five  pounds  does  not  bounce," 
laughed  Madge ;  "  Ruth  would  glide.  And 
she  never  gets  disheveled.  Are  ballrooms 
always  dusty  ?" 

"Of  course  not,  and  Ruth  would  look 
pretty  there — anywhere,  no  doubt,  But  it 
is  easier  to  think  of  her  teaching  clodhop- 
pers arithmetic.  Why,  I  wonder?" 

Madge  did  not  speak,  but  both  had  the 
same  thought.  Each  felt,  "  Dancing  is  right 
enough,  but  I  don't  want  to  see  Ruth  dancing 
in  any  such  place." 

"It  is  odd  how  I  know  Ruth  without 
knowing  her.  She  was  too  shy  when  I  was 
first  at  your  house,  a  great,  noisy  boy ;  the 
next  time  she  was  abroad ;  and  so  I  really 
have  seen  her  but  three  or  four  times  since 
we  were  children,  while  you  are  almost  like 
a  sister." 

"Yes.  Do  you  know  what  is  the  best 
agency  here?" 


152  THE  SILENT  MAN'S  LEGACY. 

"  'Agency'  ?"  he  repeated,  blankly. 

"For  a  teacher,  you  know,  to  secure  a 
position." 

"  Oh  no,  but  I  will  find  out.  I  will  file  an 
application  saying  that  Minerva  herself  can 
be  engaged  to  teach  all  the  sciences,  arts  and 
accomplishments.  At  a  thousand  dollars  a 
year,  is  it?" 

"Anything  from  that  down  to  ten  dollars 
a  week,  or  six  and  boarding  around." 

"That  is,  I  will  start  Minerva  so  far  on 
her  career  if  she  will  decide  to-day  to  spend 
the  summer  under  mother's  wing  and  with- 
in the  circle  of  my  own  benign  influence, 
which  will  soften  the  asperities  of  her  tem- 
per—" 

"  Why,  I  think  your  mother  is  very  ami- 
able already,  considering  whose  mother  she 
has  to  be,"  retorted  Madge ;  and  before  Bert 
could  right  himself  Mrs.  Kay  nor  entered, 
asking  why  her  husband  was  late. 

Madge  soon  ran  up  stairs  to  attend  to 
something  before  dinner,  and  Bert  was  left 
alone  with  his  mother. 

"  I  thought  Madge  had  decided  to  go  with 
us,"  he  remarked.  "  I  should  think  she  would 


BAD  NEWS  FOR  MADGE.  153 

be  more  eager  in  view  of  the  fact  that  she 
never  has  seen  anything  outside  of  that 
little  country  town  and  a  girls'  seminary." 

"I  don't  understand,  myself,  for  she  is 
very  fond  of  excitement.  Perhaps  she  does 
not  like  to  be  under  any  fancied  obligation 
to  us ;  she  is  as  proud  as  she  is  poor.  I  only 
wish  I  could  do  twice  as  much  for  her,  but  I 
see  that  I  may  only  go  so  far  without  giving 
offence.  She  tells  me  less  and  less  of  their 
family  affairs." 

•  "  It  is  a  pity  that  she  must  go  tossing 
about  the  world  earning  her  living.  Why 
don't  you  just  make  her  live  right  along 
with  you  like  a  daughter?" 

A  peculiar  smile  passed  over  his  mother's 
face  at  Bert's  outspoken  interest  in  the 
young  girl.  She  played  with  a  rose  a  min- 
ute before  she  replied: 

"  I  am  sorry  to  see  such  a  nice,  warm- 
hearted, handsome  girl  worried  and  over- 
worked and  away  from  home,  as  she  must 
be,  and  she  hates  the  prospect  too ;  I  can  see 
that.  I  like  Madge — I  like  the  Preston  stock 
— but,  Bert,  there  is  only  one  way  that  she 
would  ever  consent  to  come  here  as  a  daugh- 


154  THE  SILENT  MAN'S  LEGACY. 

ter.  Don't  you  know  that?  Your  father 
and  I  would  be  right  well  pleased  if  you 
chose  to  invite  her." 

Abby,  remembering  the  merry,  heedless 
boy  whom  she  used  to  lecture,  coax  and  scold, 
would  have  forgotten  Bert's  six  feet  of  man- 
hood had  she  heard  then  his  old  ejaculation, 
now  doubly  emphatic : 

"  Christopher  Columbus !" 

"  Don't  be  excited.  I  presume  she  would 
be  equally  astonished  at  the  idea  if  it  were 
too  suddenly  presented,  but  it  will  not  hurt 
you  to  consider  it.  Here  comes  your  fa- 
ther, just  in  time  to  save  the  soup  from 
spoiling." 

That  night  Cousin  Jane  by  much  per- 
suasion and  many  arts  convinced  Madge  that 
she  might  better  spend  the  summer  with  her, 
but  she  was  wise  enough  to  give  not  the 
vaguest  hint  of  her  as  yet  baseless  plans. 
Young,  restless  and  ambitious  as  was  Madge, 
she  was  thoroughly  womanly  and  not  to  be 
grossly  tempted  into  any  path  leading  to  the 
life  of  luxury  which  she  pictured  as  so  de- 
lightful. Moreover,  Mrs.  Kayuor  loved  her 
son  far  too  well  to  dream  that  any  young 


BAD  NEWS  FOR  MADGE.  155 

girl  would  in  marrying  him  think  more  of 
his  money  than  of  himself;  yet  just  of  this 
last  un worthiness  did  Madge  Preston  know 
^herself  to  be  capable. 


CHAPTER   VIII. 

IN  VANITY  FAIR. 

"  And  if  he  that  firmly  purposeth  often  faileth,  what  shall 
he  do  that  seldom  or  but  weakly  purpo^eth  anything?"— 
THOMAS  1  KEMPIS. 

WITH  a  philosophy  peculiar  to  natures 
like  her  own,  Madge  Preston  resolved 
to  have  all  the  pleasure  within  her  grasp 
and  let  the  future  look  out  for  itself.  She 
was  not  needed  at  home,  and  there  was 
no  selfishness  in  staying  away.  Accordingly, 
Madge  yielded  to  Cousin  Jane,  who  under 
one  pretext  or  another  added  many  dainty 
little  articles  to  her  limited  wardrobe,  acting 
quite  as  if  Madge  were  her  daughter.  The 
young  girl  was  pleased  and  grateful,  but  in 
those  busy  days  of  trunk-packing  she  could 
not  help  contrasting  Cousin  Jane,  who  would 
discourse  a  full  hour  about  one  dress  and  its 
trimmings,  with  her  own  mother,  who  in  a 
talk  of  that  length  would  have  left  in 

156 


IN  VANITY  FAIR.  157 

Madge's  memory  many  a  thought  worth 
treasuring.  It  was,  however,  all  charmingly 
new  when  once  they  turned  their  back  on 
the  great  cool  city-house  in  which  one  might 
easily  have  been  comfortable  all  summer. 
They  spent  a  fortnight  in  steamboat-trips 
and  stage-rides  to  various  watering-places 
and  nooks  in  the  mountains ;  then  they 
arrived  late  one  Saturday  evening  at  a 
mammoth  hotel  on  the  seashore  where  they 
proposed  to  stay  for  the  next  six  or  eight 
weeks. 

Madge  was  so  tired  that  she  did  not  awake 
from  the  time  her  head  touched  her  pillow 
until  late  the  next  morning.  She  hurriedly 
dressed,  but  it  was  nearly  ten  before  Cousin 
Jane  and  the  gentlemen  were  ready  to  have 
breakfast  in  the  great  diuing-hall.  Groups 
of  ladies  in  elegant  morning- toilets  interested 
Madge  only  less  than  the  lovely  children 
here  and  there  with  their  tidy  nurses,  but 
by  and  by  she  forget  these  in  listening  to 
the  animated  discussion  of  several  gentle- 
men near  her  in  regard  to  certain  operas. 
Mr.  Ray  nor  knew  one  of  the  gentlemen, 
and  he  and  Bert  were  soon  drawn  into  the 


158  THE  STLENT  MAN'S  LEGACY. 

conversation.  How  ignorant  Madge  felt  in 
a  half-amused,  half-puzzled  way !  Operas 
had  hitherto  seemed  to  her  things  apart 
from  every-day  life,  not  matters  to  be  taken 
so  earnestly  and  talked  of  as  enthusiastically 
as  grand  poems  or  wonderful  pictures. 

After  breakfast  Cousin  Jane  led  Madge 
out  on  the  enormously  wide,  long  covered 
piazza  facing  the  water.  It  was  gay  with 
bright  awnings  and  beautified  with  growing 
palms,  ferns  and  huge  rustic  boxes  of  flow- 
ers in  full  bloom.  The  sun  sparkled  on  the 
blue,  dancing  waves ;  the  space  between  the 
hotel  and  the  white  sand  was  an  exquisite 
little  lawn  sloping  down  to  a  shell-like 
building  of  crimson  and  gold  where  were 
musical  arrangements.  Cousin  Jane  found 
a  cozy  seat  under  a  perfect  bower  of  blossoms 
where  they  could  watch  the  constant  stream 
of  promenaders  back  and  forth  on  the 
piazza  and  the  sports  of  the  pretty  children 
or  the  stretch  of  sea  mirroring  the  cloudless 
sky. 

By  and  by  Bert  took  Madge  for  a  walk 
along  the  shore,  and  the  day  was  half  done 
when  he  said, 


IN  VANITY  FAIR.  159 

"  Now  let  us  go  back,  or  we  shall  miss  the 
sacred  concert.  They  have  one  here  every 
Sunday." 

"  '  Sunday  ' !  Why,  Bert,  I  never  once 
thought  that  to-day  was  Sunday  !  This  has 
been  such  a  queer  week,  every  day  in  a  new 
place.  It  does  not  seem  at  all  like  Sunday," 
exclaimed  Madge,  a  trace  of  disapproval  in 
her  tone  of  surprise. 

"Oh,  it  is  exactly  like  all  Sundays  here, 
and  better  than  in  many  places — quieter,  I 
mean.  There  are  not  many  such  Sundays 
kept  as  you  are  used  to,  Madge,"  returned 
Bert,  dropping  on  a  bench,  forgetful  of  his 
proposal  to  return  to  the  piazza,  "  but,  all 
the  same,  I  like  them  best.  If  I—  How 
well  I  remember  thinking  that  on  Sunday 
mornings  the  birds  in  Hempstead  sang 
hymns  and  everything  out  of  doors  seemed 
in  some  way  fresher  and  sweeter  than  on 
common  days !  Then  your  mother  made 
me  come  to  breakfast  in  my  '  best  clothes,' 
and  we  all  had  a  thanksgiving  verse  to 
season  Abby's  muffins.  Then  grandmother 
used  to  inveigle  me  into  reading  her  some- 
thing good  before  church — or  after,  probably, 


160  THE  SILENT  MAN'S  LEGACY. 

just  as  I  was  taking  myself  off  for  mischief. 
I  never  reflected  at  the  time  how  regularly 
her  eyesight  failed  on  Sundays  or  how  much 
better  adapted  to  my  mind  than  to  hers  was 
the  reading  she  selected.  Bless  her !  I  got 
from  her  an  idea  that  angels  were  old  ladies 
with  sugar-plums  in  their  pockets  and  soft 
ways  of  putting  their  wrinkled  hands  on 
your  head  and  making  you  sorry,  when 
your  father  or  mine  would  have  prescribed 
a  thrashing.  Sunday  was  a  holy  day  in 
your  home — it  is  now,  of  course — or  did  it 
only  seem  so  to  us  children?" 

Madge  murmured, 

"  Yes,  it  is  different  from  this,  and  very 
old-fashioned.  Out  in  the  world  it  seems 
so,  I  mean." 

Madge  was  wondering,  in  case  she  could 
wholly  approve  of  the  Sunday  that  she 
found  "  iiew-fashioned,"  whether  she  would 
like  it  as  well — was  mentally  contrasting 
the  gay  hotel,  the  stylish  people,  the  talk  of 
operas,  fashion,  travel  and  business,  the  romp- 
ing children  and  the  sacred  concert,  with  the 
reality  at  home  this  very  moment,  her  people 
in  the  old  pew  by  the  open  window  where  the 


IN  VANITY  FAIR.  161 

willow  swayed  and  the  birds  that  Bert  told 
of  sang  not  out  of  harmony  with  the  prayer 
and  song  within.  Listening  to  the  good  old 
Mr.  Edgecomb  did  make  one  feel  "  sorry  " 
for  one's  evil-doing,  quite  as  Bert  said  of 
grandmother's  hand.  Yes,  it  would  be 
pleasant,  Madge  thought,  this  very  day  to 
sit  down  with  B-uth  and  Loraine  in  her  own 
room  and  talk  as  girls  will  of  their  hopes 
and  failures. 

"  You  are  a  member  of  the  church,  aren't 
you  ?"  asked  Bert,  suddenly. 

"Yes;  I  joined  after  Ruth  came  from 
Europe.  I  made  up  my  mind  that  if  she 
lived  through  that  dreadful  fever  she  had 
there  I  would  try  to  be  a  Christian,  for  she 
had  asked  me  to  try  before  she  sailed." 

"  Same  year  I  took  myself  in  hand ;  but  I 
have  not  made  much  of  a  success  of  it.  I 
wonder  if  the  difference  in  Christians  is 
largely  a  matter  of  temperament  or  chiefly 
of  circumstances?"  mused  Bert,  drawing 
maps  in  the  sand  with  his  cane. 

"  Not  so  much  of  circumstances,  I  imag- 
ine, as  of  temperament,"  said  Madge,  watch- 
ing a  tiny  gleaming  sail.  "  I  am  not  in  a 
11 


162  THE  SILENT  MAN'S  LEGACY. 

Sunday  frame  of  mind  to-day,  but  I  need 
not  think  it  is  because  of  my  unusual  sur- 
roundings; I  have  been  just  as  worldly- 
minded  in  church  at  home.  Ruth's  circum- 
stances have  usually  been  the  same  as  mine, 
but  she—" 

"  Is  a  different  type  of  a  Christian  ?"  sug- 
gested Bert. 

"Yes,  as  different  from  me  as — as  the 
Sabbath  in  Hempstead  is  from  the  Sunday 
here,"  replied  Madge ;  adding,  "And  I  can't 
tell  whether  or  not  I  approve  of  this  Sun- 
day." 

"  What  made  you  say  '  Sabbath '  there 
and  '  Sunday  '  here  ?" 

"  Because  I  know  they  are  remembering 
the  Sabbath  day  to  keep  it  holy,  and  the 
holiness  of  this  Sunday  is  not  so  appar- 
ent." 

"Perhaps  the  difference  in  some  Chris- 
tians is  parallel — holy-day  Christians  hold- 
ing to  a  plain  commandment,  and  holiday 
Christians  bound  to  have  all  the  fun  there 
is  going." 

"Our  folks  are  not  glum,  Bert;  they  like 
fun,  as  you  know." 


IN  VANITY  FAIR.  163 

"  Verily  they  do,  I  can  testify." 

Madge  heard  the  first  strains  of  a  full  or- 
chestra and  knew  the  sacred  concert  was 
beginning,  but  Bert  was  in  a  brown  study. 
Finally  he  said, 

"  I  don't  know  what  we  set  out  to  prove 
or  to  disprove ;  never  mind,  any  way.  You 
have  been  so  religiously  brought  up,  Madge, 
that  I  suppose  everything  is  clear  to  you. 
Probably  you  don't  have  my  difficulties.  I 
do  not  mean  doubts  or  skepticism  of  any  sort. 
I  believe  the  Bible  because  I  can't  see  how 
any  one  can  be  fool  enough  to  reject  it  whol- 
ly or  in  part,  but —  Well,  I  am  not  much 
of  a  Christian,  Madge,  as  you  can  see  for 
yourself,  and — this  you  may  not  understand 
— sometimes  I  say  to  myself  if  Christianity  is 
all  that  some  Christians  say  it  is  to  them, 
why  I  know  precious  little  about  it ;  but  if  I 
have  all  there  is  to  have,  I  don't  feel  satis- 
fied, that  is  all." 

Bert  was  speaking  with  a  half-suppressed 
earnestness  new  in  him  and  simply  unintel- 
ligible to  Madge.  She  looked  at  him  won- 
deringly,  then  looked  away  again  to  the  sunlit 
sail,  and  was  silent,  secretly  wishing  that  he 


164  THE  SILENT  MAN'S  LEGACY. 

would  remember  the  entrancing  music  they 
were  losing.  This  child  of  many  prayers 
did  not  realize  that  she,  having  "  need  of 
nothing  "  spiritual,  was  therefore  "  poor  and 
blind,"  while  the  one  by  her  side,  vainly 
seeking  help  of  her,  was  hearing  and  long- 
ing to  heed,  not  the  music  of  an  hour,  but 
the  voice  of  Him  who  says,  "  Behold  I  stand 
at  the  door  and  knock :  if  any  man  hear  my 
voice  and  open  the  door,  I  will  come  in  to 
him." 

"  Your  mother  is  waving  her  handker- 
chief to  us  to  return,"  said  Madge,  after 
a  while ;  so  they  went  back. 

The  next  few  weeks  passed  like  a  dream. 
Madge  had  not  a  care,  a  responsibility  nor  an 
ungratified  whim.  Life  seemed  a  lotus-eat- 
ing existence  made  up  of  successive  pleas- 
ures coming  without  thought  or  labor.  There 
was,  of  course,  nothing  wrong  in  the  fact 
that  she  enjoyed  most  heartily  all  this  new 
ease  and  luxury.  She  spent  hours  "  on  the 
piazza "  with  Cousin  Jane,  finding  time  to 
read  there  a  number  of  charming  books; 
she  had  long  pleasant  drives  around  a  pict- 
uresque region  of  country,  and  sweet  cool 


IN  VANITY  FAIR.  165 

mornings  or  long  hazy  afternoons  for  excur- 
sions on  the  water.  Such  diversions  so  occu- 
pied the  first  few  weeks  that  she  did  not  make 
acquaintance  with  many  persons  with  whom 
she  came  into  social  relations  of  any  intimacy. 
She  petted  the  beautiful  children,  and  the 
old  ladies,  moved  by  a  singular  impulse, 
petted  Madge  herself.  A  few  merry  boys 
found  her  a  comrade  worth  encouragement. 
Cousin  Jane  was  pleased  at  the  compliments 
bestowed  on  her  charge,  and  duly  reported 
them  to  Bert  and  to  her  husband,  who  were 
equally  pleased  at  hearing  them. 

About  the  middle  of  August  the  hotel 
received  a  large  accession  of  fashionable  peo- 
ple who  had  spent  the  first  half  of  the 
season  elsewhere.  To  many  of  these  the 
Raynors  were  known,  to  others  they  were 
soon  introduced,  and  all  at  once  Madge  found 
herself  one  of  a  "  select  set  of  society  girls," 
as  Cousin  Jane  called  them. 

"I  knew  this  would  happen,  little  girl," 
said  that  lady,  in  her  half-coaxing,  half- 
matter-of-fact  way,  "  and  so  I  made  a  little 
extra  provision  for  it;"  and  forthwith  she 
brought  out,  as  she  saw  the  occasion  required, 


166  THE  SILENT  MAN'S  LEGACY. 

laces,  sashes  or  gloves,  paying  no  heed  to 
Madge's  mingled  thanks  and  protests. 

"I  don't  like  to  take  them,"  thought 
Madge,  "but,  being  here,  how  else  can  I 
do?  I  should  mortify  her  if  I  kept  to 
these  poor  little  trumperies  that  mother 
thought  would  be  all-sufficient.  Dear  moth- 
er !  her  idea  of  a  summer  at  the  seaside  could 
not  have  been  much  like  the  reality." 

This  reality  for  Madge  was  a  new  turn  of 
the  kaleidoscope,  bringing  before  her  fashion, 
folly,  envy  and  giddy  haste  for  the  latest 
excitement ;  but  every  phase  of  each  was  so 
delicately  exhibited,  so  in  half  light  or  deep 
shadow,  that  nothing  was  startling,  or  even 
repulsive.  If  insensibly  Madge  came  to  lis- 
ten without  aversion  to  the  witty  worldliness, 
the  playful  earnestness,  of  other  young  girls 
who  believed  poverty  to  be  the  curse  of  curses, 
and  called  poverty  the  lot  of  all  men  and 
women  who  worked  for  anything  but  pleas- 
ure, who  wore  plain  garments  or  who  lived 
out  of  their  world,  why  it  was  because  her 
eyes  were  dazzled  and  she  was  ignorant  of 
the  best  and  over-impressed  by  glitter  and 
show,  as  are  scores  of  girls  every  day. 


IN   VANITY  FAIR.  167 

Little  by  little  she  was  drawn  into  doing 
and  saying  things  that  her  best  judgment 
would  not  have  sanctioned  had  she  stopped 
in  her  gayety  long  enough  to  think.  Once. 
in  a  while,  when  Bert  looked  at  her  with  a 
certain  mild  surprise,  she  assured  herself: 
"This  is  not  just  according  to  the  family 
traditions.  They  are  all  correct,  but  Hemp- 
stead  is  a  little  country-town,  and  we  are 
very  quiet  as  a  family.  I  shall  be  none  the 
less  proper  and  contented  for  a  little  dissipa- 
tion here." 

Bert  was  always  at  Madge's  command  for 
a  walk,  a  sail  or  a  drive,  although  lie  seemed 
much  less  fond  of  gaslight  festivities  than 
Madge  would  have  imagined  him  to  be. 
He  said  that  he  had  left  the  city  to  be  out 
of  doors  and  to  have  leisure  to  himself. 
His  mother  teased  him  about  growing  old 
before  his  time  when  for  men  of  his  fa- 
ther's age  he  neglected  the  young  people 
who  danced. 

Among  the  new-comers  was  a  family  of 
Ventnors,  very  haughty  and  reserved.  Mrs. 
Ventnor  was  a  large,  strong-featured  lady 
with  white  curls  piled  in  a  majestic  fashion 


168  THE  SILENT  MAN'S  LEGACY. 

on  each  side  of  her  severe  countenance. 
Mr.  Ventnor  always  reminded  Madge  of  the 
fabled  frog  trying  to  swell  to  an  abnormal 
•  size,  while  for  Miss  Ventnor  she  felt  a  strong 
dislike.  The  latter  was  as  handsome  as 
faultless  features  could  possibly  be  when 
expressionless  with  studied  "repose."  The 
mother  recognized  the  Raynors,  but  never 
saw  Madge.  Miss  Maude  seemed  just  con- 
scious enough  of  her  insignificant  presence 
not  to  walk  over  her  if  she  chanced  to  be  in 
the  Ventnor  way  in  hall  or  in  parlor;  at 
the  end  of  a  week  each  heartily  detested  the 
other.  Miss  Ventnor  secretly  resented  the 
"  impudence  of  a  nobody "  in  being  so 
pretty  that  "  everybody "  admired  her,  so 
merrily  winning  that  Miss  Ventnor's  own 
favored  friends  liked  to  chat  with  her  by  the 
half  hour — with  a  girl  whose  whole  ward- 
robe could  not  have  cost  as  much  as  the 
ruffle  around  Miss  Ventuor's  jeweled  hand. 
How  Madge  read  the  young  lady's  pique 
behind  her  calm  countenance  only  a  girl 
could  tell,  but  an  evil  spirit  took  possession 
of  Madge,  and  soon  her  own  pleasure-seek- 
ing was  secondary  to  her  desire  to  thwart 


IN  VANITY  FAIR.  169 

and  annoy  this  Miss  Ventnor.  So  quietly 
and  with  such  exquisite  art  did  she  set  to 
work  that  nobody  dreamed  that  certain  little 
events  did  not  fall  out  by  chance.  Time  af- 
ter time  the  person  with  whom  Maude  had 
decided  to  talk,  to  walk  or  to  dance  gravi- 
tated toward  Madge.  Unable  to  endure  this, 
and  sure  of  one  weapon  that  she  could  wield, 
Maude  allowed  some  one  to  bring  about  an 
introduction  between  them.  Whenever  after 
that  she  spoke  to  Madge,  it  was  to  ask  her 
if  she  had  done  or  seen  or  enjoyed  some- 
thing possible  only  to  people  of  wealth,  and 
twice  Madge  was  made  to  hear  a  sentence  or 
two  about  some  one  who  was  "  rather  pretty ; 
Mrs.  Raynor's  companion — a  governess,  I  be- 
lieve." How  angry  Madge  was  !  How  full 
her  heart  of  really  unreasonable  spite !  Was 
she  not  poor  ?  and  if  not  exactly  a  governess, 
was  she  not  the  next  thing  to  that — a  teacher- 
elect,  perhaps,  of  the  "  Knox  Corners  dis- 
trict school"  ?  But  she  did  not  remember 
this — did  not  consider  how  her  gentle  moth- 
er would  have  shown  her  the  absurdity  of 
her  own  attempts  at  social  rivalry  and  all 
the  unloveliness  of  her  conduct. 


170  THE  SILENT  MAN'S  LEGACY. 

It  was  an  exciting  game,  and  a  little  suc- 
cess iii  it  turned  Madge's  head ;  but  as  days 
ran  by  it  became  evident  to  Madge  that  Miss 
Ventnor's  position  and  social  triumphs  were, 
after  all,  something  as  far  apart  from  her 
own  life  and  pursuits  as  the  Ventnor  dia- 
monds were  from  Professor  Preston's  best 
ten-year-old  coat.  In  the  estimation  of  all 
these  elegant  women  and  genial  men  and 
gay  young  people  she  was  just  a  pleasant 
little  nobody,  and  Miss  Ventnor  was  an 
heiress  whose  parents  gave  grand  receptions 
in  their  winter  city-house  and  cruised  in 
their  yacht  or  went  abroad  to  spend  the 
summers.  What  was  it  that  made  the  dif- 
ference? Madge  said,  "Money." 

It  was  curious — and  to  one  who  loved 
her  it  would  have  been  alarming — how  con- 
stantly of  late  the  once-careless,  light-hearted 
Madge  was  letting  all  her  thoughts  brood 
over  money,  money.  In  her  own  home  the 
lack  of  money  was  beginning  to  be  felt,  but 
there  all  were  trying  to  cast  their  care  on  the 
Father  in  heaven,  striving  to  be  grateful, 
without  a  fear  for  daily  bread  even  if  the  fu- 
ture might  bring  want.  Not  so  with  Madge. 


IN  VANITY  FAIR.  171 

Having  food  and  raiment  was  "  not  much  ;" 
wealth  could  afford  so  much  more. 

After  such  a  mood  of  discontent — only 
too  common  nowadays — there  came  to  the 
young  girl  the  whisper  of  a  temptation 
which  still  made  her  blush  for  shame. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

GRANDMA'S  BIRTHDAY. 

*•  In  God's  good  time  his  gentle  grace, 

Like  sun  and  dew  and  rain, 
Will  make  his  green  wheat-ears  all  ripe 
And  full  of  golden  grain." 

GRANDMOTHER  GREY  awoke  one 

^T  morning  when  the  east  was  just  crim- 
soned with  the  glory  of  dawn,  and  when  the 
birds  in  the  trees  by  her  window  were 
twittering  with  joy  over  the  new  day.  She 
did  not  fall  asleep  again,  but  for  full  an 
hour  mused  on  a  solemn  little  secret— or 
she  thought  it  a  secret :  nobody  had  remem- 
bered that  this  was  her  eightieth  birthday. 

"  Goodness  and  mercy  have  followed  me 
all  the  days  of  my  life,"  she  murmured  as  a 
picture  rose  before  her  of  her  childhood 
home  as  it  was  seventy  years  before — & 
sunny  old  mansion  standing  back  from  a 

172 


GRANDMA'S  BIRTHDAY.  173 

New  England  common — herself  a  child 
frolicking  down  a  garden-walk  between  rows 
of  white  lilies  almost  as  tall  as  herself.  She 
could  see  as  if  it  were  yesterday  her  beauti- 
ful fair-haired  mother  coming  smiling  to 
meet  her  with  hands  full  of  birthday-gifts 
— those  tender  hands  that  a  few  months 
later  were  folded  on  her  lifeless  breast. 

"Poor  little  one!"  sighed  grandmother, 
as  if  her  former  self  had  been  some  other 
child.  "  She  walked  over  thorns  after  that 
oftener  than  among  lilies,  but  the  Good 
Shepherd  led  her  and  never  once  left  her  to 
suffer  alone."  Year  by  year  she  reviewed 
the  time,  finding  such  precious  memories 
crowding  on  her  that  her  faded  eyes  kept 
filling  with  grateful  tears.  "  How  many  old 
people  are  ill  and  neglected  in  their  old  age, 
and  are  made  to  feel  themselves  a  burden !" 
she  reflected  ;  "and  here  am  I  petted  like  a 
spoiled  child  by  my  child  and  her  children. 
O  my  God,  how  good  thou  art  to  leave  me 
in  an  earthly  home  so  bright,  and  then  to 
give  me  the  promise  of  a  '  house  not  made 
with  hands,  eternal  in  the  heavens '  I" 

When,  by  and  by,  the  sunshine   flooded 


174  THE  SrLENT  MAN'S  LEGACY. 

the  room  and  she  heard  the  family  astir, 
grandmother  went  searching  for  her  work- 
dress  that  she  might  go  and  help  a  little  in 
the  morning  duties,  now  that  Abby  was 
away.  But  Ruth  was  too  quick  for  her. 
There  was  a  tap  at  her  door,  and  in  came 
the  laughing  girl,  saying, 

"  I  suppose,  grandmother,  you  would  pre- 
fer to  take  your  eighty  kisses  with  intervals 
between  ?  Oh,  you  sly  grandmother  !  How 
still  you  have  kept  about  your  birthday ! 
Did  you  think  you  could  cheat  us  out  of  it 
after  all  these  years  ?" 

"  Why,  dear  child,  '  after  all  these  years,' 
as  you  say,  it  does  seem  foolish  to  be  making 
any  fuss  over  a  poor  old  woman." 

"No;  don't  touch  that  old  dress  to-day. 
I  have  come  to  be  your  maid  of  honor,"  ex- 
claimed Ruth,  producing  a  new  soft  drab- 
colored  gingham  and  a  snowy  muslin  cap, 
in  which  she  insisted  that  the  old  lady  should 
array  herself.  "  It  is  only  an  every-day 
dress,  and  I  hope  you  will  not  laugh  at  my 
cap.  I  would  never  venture  to  make  you 
anything  but  a  morning  one." 

"It  is  pretty  enough  for  a  party,  Ruth," 


GRANDMA  'S  SIRTHDA  Y.  1 75 

cried  grandma,  in  a  little  tremor  of  surprise 
and  pleasure,  which  continued  while  Ruth 
kept  up  her  affectionate  compliments  as  she 
arranged  the  new  dress  and  the  dainty  cap. 

The  girls  were  quite  right  in  thinking 
grandma  a  very  handsome  old  lady,  and 
their  merry  praises  of  her  beauty  made  her 
blush  sometimes  as  if  she  were  eighteen. 
She  had  lost  all  vanity  long  years  ago,  but 
their  loving  playfulness  in  this  way  often 
made  her  feel  as  if  sunshine  were  falling  on 
her.  To  the  very  old,  as  to  the  very  young, 
little  demonstrations  mean  far  more  than 
they  do  to  the  rest  of  the  world.  They 
mean  love,  and  in  the  beginning  and  the 
end  of  life  it  is  hard  doing  without  that, 
however  one  may  make  shift  in  the  days 
between. 

"  There !  now  you  are  fit  to  see  the  queen, 
and  she  might  feel  herself  honored  to  meet 
you.  Come;"  and  Ruth  led  the  old  lady 
out  into  the  dining-room,  where  everybody 
had  a  greeting  for  her,  where  was  a  glass 
full  of  pansies  at  her  plate  and  in  her  chair 
a  little  heap  of  gifts.  There  was  nothing 
costly — a  copy  of  the  Psalms  in  very  big 


176  THE  SILENT  MAN'S  LEGACY. 

print  wrapped  in  a  fine  handkerchief  from 
Loraine,  a  box  of  peppermint-lozenges  from 
Johnny  and  a  flask  of  cologne  from  the 
Professor.  From  Madge  had  come  gloves, 
and  then  the  two  girls  had  united  to 
give  grandmother  a  pretty  surprise.  Long 
put  away  as  useless  was  a  quaint  bead  bag 
which  she  had  carried  when  a  child.  It 
was,  in  part,  unharmed  by  time;  so  they 
relined  it  with  a  soft-hued  silk,  slightly 
changed  its  shape,  and  there  as  a  handker- 
chief-case, whole,  fresh,  yet  almost  the  same, 
was  the  ancient  bag  with  the  faint  perfume 
that  it  had  never  seemed  to  lose.  The 
hundred  dollars  in  gold  had  not  given  her 
quite  so  keen  a  pleasure  as  the  sight  of  those 
pink,  purple  and  amber  beads  woven  into 
curious  flowers.  It  was  a  bit  of  long-ago 
come  back  to  her,  like  the  picture  of  the 
child  in  the  garden. 

After  breakfast  and  prayers  Mary  Parker 
came  to  take  grandmother,  and  "nobody 
else,"  for  a  morning  drive.  She  knew  by 
confidences  yesterday  given  that  while  the 
old  lady  was  being  refreshed  by  the  ride 
past  summer  fields  and  along  the  river  Ruth 


GRANDMA'S  BIRTHDAY.  177 

and  Loraine  were  to  be  making  some  ex- 
travagant preparations  to  give  grandmother 
a  later  surprise  in  the  way  of  a  little  tea- 
party.  The  minister  and  his  wife,  her  old 
friend  the  doctor  and  the  Parkers  were  to 
come  for  a  visit. 

The  moment  grandma  was  out  of  sight 
the  girls  dusted  and  decked  the  rooms  with 
fresh  flowers,  and  made  them  sweet  and  cool 
before  they  besieged  the  kitchen.  Here 
Loraine  was  not  of  quite  so  much  use  as 
was  Ruth,  and  so,  under  pretext  of  going  to 
the  post-office,  she  visited  the  market  and  add- 
ed to  the  simple  preparations  a  generous  sup- 
ply of  delicious  fruit  and  some  other  delica- 
cies seldom  allowed  by  the  economical  house- 
wife. Every  day  Loraiue  was  sunning  her- 
self in  the  genial  warmth  of  this  home-love 
into  which  she  had  entered.  The  Professor 
began  to  call  her  his  third  daughter,  and 
Mrs.  Preston  was  winning  the  confidence 
that  Loraine  might  have  given  her  own 
mother. 

Grandmother  came  home  a  little  weary 
with  her  unusual  exercise,  and  after  dinner 
took  a  long  refreshing  nap.  It  was  after 


378  THE  SILENT  MAN'S  LEGACY. 

five  when,  dressing  herself  with  a  little  ex- 
tra daintiness  to  please  Ruth,  she  walked 
out  of  her  own  room  into  the  parlor  and 
encountered  jolly  old  Dr.  Hickox  and  the 
gentle,  white-haired  minister,  Mr.  Edgecomb, 
with  his  sweet  little  wife,  who  always  made 
Loraine  think  of  a  "  flower  pressed  in  a 
Bible." 

"  She  is  just  so  delicate,  pink  and  white 
still,  and,  if  wrinkled  a  bit  with  age,  keeps 
a  kind  of  perfume  of  youth,"  was  Loraine's 
comment. 

The  doctor  was  seventy-five,  and  one  of 
the  old  lady's  firmest  friends  for  the  reason 
that  he  had  known  Grandmother  Grey 
when  he  was  a  boy.  They  had  been  neigh- 
bors in  the  beautiful  old  New  England  town. 
He  never  spent  any  time  in  her  society  with- 
out going  back  to  "  old  times  "  and  making 
her  merry  and  sad  by  turns. 

The  two  girls  were  very  busy  until  after 
tea,  because  the  whole  care  of  that  devolved 
on  them ;  Mrs.  Preston  was  banished  to  the 
parlor.  But  after  supper  was  over  and  Mrs. 
Edgecomb  had  sipped  her  tea  out  of  an  egg- 
shell china  cup  almost  a  hundred  years  old, 


GRANDMA  'S  BIR THDA  Y.  179 

and  Dr.  Hickox  had  "  tried "  a  sixth  bis- 
cuit just  because  Ruth  made  them,  and 
everybody  was  settled  again  for  an  evening 
chat,  when  Loraine  said, 

"I  hope  they  will  get  on  the  old  times, 
as  you  say  they  always  do." 

"  Never  you  fear,"  whispered  Ruth,  nest- 
ling into  a  corner  of  the  deep  sofa,  whose 
cover  she  had  that  morning  ingeniously 
patched. 

Dr.  Hickox,  who  was  looking  over  some 
books,  suddenly  turned  to  the  old  lady, 
asking, 

"  Patience,  do  you  remember  the  copy  of 
Young's  Night  Thoughts  that  Deacon  Alford 
gave  you  for  being  the  best  reader  of  blank 
verse  in  the  school  ?" 

"  Indeed  I  do !  And  how  many  hours  I 
spent  behind  the  counters  in  my  father's 
book-store  reading  anything  I  liked,  though 
a  vigilant  eye  was  kept  on  me  to  see  that  I 
got  nothing  improper !"  replied  the  old  lady, 
adding  parenthetically,  "  I  kept  a  book  called 
The  Haunted  Castle  hid,  when  I  was  not 
secretly  using  it,  in  hop-jars  and  meal-bins, 
until  I  had  read  it  through." 


180  THE  SILENT  MAN'S  LEGACY. 

''  Fancy  such  naughtiness  in  her !"  laughed 
Loraine. 

"  How  many  a  time  I  have  seen  Dr.  Tag- 
gart,  from  the  Hill,  poking  over  dusty  vol- 
umes there !  Don't  you  know  how  he  would 
put  a  roll  of  papers  under  his  arm  and  wad- 
dle away  to  the  door?  Then,  mounted  on 
his  fat  nag,  he  would  begin  to  read,  and  the 
old  horse  would  soon  stop  to  eat  grass.  If  a 
passer-by  spoke  to  him,  the  doctor  would 
take  out  his  pocket-knife  to  cut  a  switch, 
forget  his  iptention,  and  ride  on  reading, 
with  the  knife  raised  in  the  air." 

"  Oh,  I  could  tell  no  end  of  stories  of  his 
absent-mindedness,"  said  grandmother.  "  We 
laughed  at  them,  but  he  was  so  devout, 
learned  and  genial  that  we  loved  and  re- 
spected him.  My  greatest  trial  was  being 
sober-minded  in  the  church  when  he 
preached  for  us." 

"Yes,  in  the  old  white  steepleless  church 
with  red  doors  and  the  big  sounding-board 
that  I  always  expected  would  fall  some  day 
and  completely  extinguish  good  old  Roger 
Newton  in  his  full-bettomed  wig  and  small 
clothes." 


GRANDMA'S  BIRTHDAY.  181 

"  Do  you  remember,"  added  grandmother, 
"  the  square  pews  with  seats  around  the  side 
that  let  down  with  such  a  clatter  when  the 
people  rose  for  prayers  ?  We  children  had 
chairs  in  the  middle.  How,  when  Dr.  Tag- 
gart  preached,  he  used  to  twist  the  great  tas- 
sels on  the  pulpit-cushion  !  and  many  a  time 
in  praying  he  would  turn  with  shut  eyes 
and  outstretched  hand  to  sweep  the  loud- 
buzzing  flies  off  the  window  just  behind 
him." 

"  Mrs.  David  Eipley  told  me,"  continued 
Dr.  Hick  ox,  "that  being  at  her  house  one 
morning,  having  prayers  in  the  large  kitch- 
en, the  pot  on  the  hook  boiled  over.  Parson 
Taggart  walked  to  it,  swung  forward  the 
crane  and  went  praying  back  to  his  place." 

"  Yet  a  more  truly  reverent  man  never 
lived,  and  he  was  mighty  in  prayer.  Such 
a  thing  was  really  nothing,  compared  with  the 
irreverence  of  studied  solemnity  of  manner 
and  a  mind  wandering  in  prayer  to  the  ends 
of  the  earth,"  said  the  old  lady. 

"  Eighty  years  old  to-day,  are  you  ?" 
mused  the  old  doctor.  "Well,  I  was  at  your 
thirteenth-birthday  party,  and  we  played  a 


182  THE  SILENT  MAN'S  LEGACY. 

game  called  'King  and  Queen.'  What  a 
beautiful  old  parlor  that  seemed  in  your 
house !  I  wonder  if  it  really  was  so  fine  ?" 

"  Yes,"  said  grandmother,  gravely.  "  It 
had  orange,  green  and  wood-colored  chintz 
hangings  with  heavy  fringe,  great  sofa  with 
pillows  like  the  curtains,  brass  andirons, 
silver  candlesticks,  coat-of-arms  over  the 
mantel-piece,  semicircular  tables  and  the 
glass-doored  china  closet  filled  with  most 
beautiful  little  cups  and  pitchers,  that  are 
coming  into  fashion  now." 

"And  I  suppose,  Patience,  if  we  last  long 
enough,  we  may  come  into  fashion  too,"  said 
the  jolly  old  doctor. 

"  We  are  going  to  last  for  ever,"  replied 
grandmother,  clasping  her  wrinkled  hands 
in  her  gentle  earnestness;  "and  when  I 
think  how  the  fashion  of  this  world  passeth 
away  and  old  friends  drop  out  of  our  lives 
and  never  return  here  below,  I  love  to  think 
of  Bunyan's  saying :  '  The  thought  of  what 
I  am  going  to  and  of  the  convoy  that  waits 
for  me  on  the  other  side  doth  lie  as  a  glow- 
ing coal  at  my  heart.  I  am  going  to  see 
that  Head  that  was  crowned  with  thorn? 


GRANDMA'S  BIRTHDAY.  183 

I  have  lived  by  faith,  but  I  go  where  I  shall 
live  by  sight.  I  have  loved  to  hear  my 
Lord  spoken  of;  and  wherever  I  have  seen 
the  print  of  his  shoe  in  the  earth,  there  I 
have  coveted  to  set  my  foot  too.  His  name 
has  been  to  me  as  a  civet-box — yea,  sweeter 
than  all  perfume.  He  has  held  me ;  yea,  my 
steps  have  been  strengthened  in  the  way.' " 

"  Does  your  life  seem  long  to  you  as  you 
look  back  over  it,  Mrs.  Grey?"  asked  the 
minister,  after  a  little  hush. 

Grandma  laughed  softly  as  she  answered  : 

"  I  have  a  sampler  that  I  worked  seventy 
years  ago,  and  it  seems  like  last  week  the 
day  I  finished  it  and  my  father  gave  me  a 
string  of  gold  beads.  Then,  again,  remem- 
bering the  scores  of  friends  who  have  fallen 
by  the  way,  I  feel  sometimes  like  a  pilgrim 
on  an  endless  march.  But  how  foolishly  I 
am  taking  all  your  time  in  talking  about 
myself!  They  spoil  me  here,  and  no  won- 
der that  I  get  childish." 

The  doctor  made  some  absurd  speech 
about  regretting  when  it  was  too  late  that 
he  had  told  his  own  age,  and  the  minister 
and  his  wife  contributed  some  reminiscences 


184  THE  SILENT  MAN'S  LEGACY. 

of  theirs  to  the  general  entertainment;  the 
Parkers  were  cultivated  people  who  always 
had  something  to  say  worth  hearing,  and  so 
the  little  birthday-party  went  off  cheerily. 
Nobody  thought  it  out  of  place  when  at  the 
last  grandmother  asked  them  all  to  stay  for 
prayers.  They  joined  in  singing, 

"  My  faith  looks  up  to  thee,  thou  Lamb  of  Calvary." 

The  doctor's  heavy  base  and  Mrs.  Edgecomb's 
slightly-cracked  and  grandmother's  quaver- 
ing tones  may  not  have  made  perfect  har- 
mony with  the  girls'  fresh  voices,  but  Loraine 
thought  it  very  sweet.  If  the  reading  of 
the  psalm  and  the  earnest  prayer  that  fol- 
lowed made  it  an  "  old-fashioned  "  sort  of 
a  social  visit,  nobody  (in  Madge's  absence) 
found  out  that  fact,  but  everybody  in  the  old 
yellow  house  went  to  bed  tired  and  happy, 
while  the  Parkers,  returning  to  their  grand- 
er home,  declared  that  the  Prestons  knew  how 
to  entertain  their  friends  most  sensibly. 

Loraine  sat  silent  in  much  thought  after 
the  tea-party,  until  at  last  Ruth  playfully 
accused  her  of  "  naughtiness." 


GRANDMA'S  BIRTHDAY.  185 

"Mother  used  to  say  that  Madge  never 
sat  meditating  unless  she  was  planning  mis- 
chief, while  in  my  case  it  was  usually  re- 
morse for  evil  committed." 

"  Conscience  has  nothing  to  do  with  my 
reflections  this  time,"  laughed  Loraine.  "I 
was  thinking  what  an  inquisitive  man  Mr. 
Parker  must  be." 

"  Why,  I  never  thought  that  of  him." 

"  Well,  perhaps  he  has  always  known 
about  you.  The  other  evening  he  asked  me 
every  imaginable  question  about  my  studies 
at  Mrs.  Allen's — which  of  them  I  preferred, 
which  I  excelled  in,  what  were  my  theories 
of  teaching,  provided  I  had  any,  and — 
Well,  I  can't  begin  to  remember  the  cate- 
chism that  I  was  put  through — politely,  of 
course,  and  no  question  was  too  personal. 
But  it  puzzles  me  to  know  why  he  should 
be  so  interested  in  my  education." 

"  Oh,  he  is  interested  in  all  such  matters. 
Mary  is  a  graduate  of  Wellesley,  and  he  likes 
to  compare  the  methods  and  systems  of  various 
seminaries  and  colleges.  I  hear  he  says,  now 
that  he  is  re-elected  a  trustee  of  the  acad- 
emy, that  there  shall  be  some  radical  reforms. 


186  THE  SILENT  MAN'S  LEGACY. 

Mary  says  that  after  Madge  told  him  what 
she  did  tell  that  day  on  the  piazza  he  made 
thorough  investigations,  and  convinced  him- 
self that  Miss  Elder  needed  to  raise  the 
standard  both  of  scholarship  and  of  honor 
in  the  girls'  department.  I  am  afraid  that 
father  would  not  have  approved  of  Madge's 
revelations — or,  rather,  that  he  would  fear  she 
felt  revengeful  toward  Miss  Elder;  but  all 
Madge  said  was  true,  and  Mr.  Parker  is  too 
discreet  to  mention  her  name,  so  perhaps 
good  for  the  school  may  come  out  of  all  the 
changes." 

"Does  not  your  father  mean  to  teach 
anywhere  the  coming  year  ?"  asked  Loraine, 
who  had  begun  to  feel  the  undercurrent  of 
apprehensive  thought  in  the  family-life. 
She  longed  to  be  of  some  help,  but  could 
think  of  no  way  that  was  at  all  practical. 

"Father  has  not  made  any  engagement 
yet,"  was  all  Ruth's  answer,  her  face  grow- 
ing grave  with  the  thought  that  in  three 
weeks  all  the  schools  would  open,  and  prob- 
ably it  was  even  then  far  too  late  to  think 
that  the  Professor  could  get  a  position. 

Loraine,  somewhat  to   Ruth's  relief,  said 


GRANDMA'S  BIRTHDAY.  187 

nothing  more ;  but  when  the  latter  left  the 
room,  she  fell  to  planning  something  where- 
by the  girls  could  help  themselves.  She 
wondered  if  they  three  might  not  in  some 
near  town  start  together  a  school  for  chil- 
dren. She  herself  had  means  to  hire  proper 
rooms,  and  to  carry  on  such  an  enterprise 
until  it  could  get  a  good  footing.  The 
longer  she  thought  of  this  scheme,  the  more 
feasible  it  seemed  ;  for  if  one  girl  was  needed 
at  home,  the  other  surely  was  not,  and  with 
either  of  them  Loraine  was  sure  that  she 
could  succeed.  Ruth  would  win  the  hearts 
of  the  children  by  her  sweetness;  Madge 
would  carry  everything  before  her  with  her 
usual  impetuosity. 

"  I  will  go  and  talk  it  over  with  Mary 
Parker.  She  has  excellent  judgment,  and 
could  look  at  the  chances  of  success  or  fail- 
ure more  impartially  than  either.  Ruth  or  I," 
said  Loraiue  to  herself.  She  put  on  her  hat 
and  gloves,  told  Mrs.  Preston  that  she  was 
going  for  a  little  stroll,  and  hurried  away 
before  Ruth  missed  her. 

Mary  Parker  was  at  home,  and  took  her 
guest  to  her  own  pretty  room.  Loraine, 


188  THE  UILENT  MAN'S  LEGACY. 

seated  in  a  dainty  willow  chair,  chatted 
about  indifferent  things  a  little  while,  but 
soon  unfolded  to  Mary  her  new  ideas.  She 
made  only  the  most  delicate  allusion  to  the 
Prestons'  circumstances,  knowing  that  Mary 
must  understand  all  without  words,  having 
always  known  the  family. 

Before  Loraine  had  quite  finished  Mary 
exclaimed, 

"  It  is  very  queer  that  you  should  have 
been  thinking  of  something  that  in  another 
shape  has  exercised  father  for  the  last  week. 
This  very  day  I  was  to  ask  you  to  come  here 
and  give  him  an  interview." 

Loraine  looked  surprised,  not  being  able 
to  guess  what  part  Mr.  Parker  could  take  in 
her  scheme. 

"  I  will  give  you  an  idea  of  what  he  is 
thinking,"  said  Mary,  "  and  then  we  will  go 
down  and  talk  to  him  in  the  library.  Soon 
after  father  was  put  in  office  again  as  a  trus- 
tee he  called  on  Miss  Elder,  after  consult- 
ing with  the  other  trustees,  and  told  her 
plainly  of  some  of  the  abuses  that  had  crept 
into  her  department,  and  which  must  be 
corrected.  She  was  very  deferential,  seem- 


GRANDMA'S  BIRTHDAY.  189 

ing  so  pained  and  shocked  by  some  of  fa- 
ther's statements  that,  though  he  knew  they 
were  well  founded,  he  was  gentler  with  her 
than  he  meant  to  be  ;  and  he  came  home  sure 
that  she  would  do  better.  Well,  Mr.  Sedge- 
wick,  who  has  been  here  several  times  and  has 
now  come  to  stay — he  had  a  few  talks  with 
her  about  school- matters.  It  is  evident  to 
him  and  to  father  that  she  did  not  like  him 
at  all.  She  fancied  he  would  feel  that  he 
owed  his  place  to  her  diplomacy  and  be  very 
grateful  to  her ;  on  the  contrary,  he  assur- 
ed her  that  he  never  should  have  accepted 
the  position  had  he  understood  the  state  of 
affairs  with  Professor  Preston.  To  him  also 
she  was  very  bland,  but  early  in  July  she 
began  to  look  for  another  position,  which  she 
secured  almost  immediately:  it  is  an  engage- 
ment to  teach  in  a  Western  school  at  a  much 
larger  salary  than  she  has  here.  Father 
does  not  blame  her  for  trying  to  better  her- 
self, but  it  has  been  a  little  spiteful  in  her  to 
keep  this  a  profound  secret  until  four  days 
ago,  so  making  the  trustees  lose  a  month  or 
six  weeks  in  which  they  could  have  secured 
a  lady  for  her  place.  Well,  the  moment 


190  THE  SILENT  MAN'S  LEGACY. 

father  told  me  I  said,  '  Oh,  can't  you  get  in 
one  of  the  Professor's  girls?  Both  Madge 
and  Ruth  are  well  educated,  perfectly  com- 
petent to  teach  all  that  Miss  Elder  taught, 
and  everybody  knows  that  they  are  ladies  re- 
fined and  high  principled — " 

"  Indeed  they  are !"  cried  Loraine.  "And 
after  what  Miss  Elder  did  to  the  Professor 
it  would  seem  simple  justice.  What  did 
your  father  say?" 

"  Well,  you  know,"  replied  Mary,  wisely 
nodding  her  pretty  head,  "men  never  see 
such  things  in  a  flash  as  women  do :  they  see 
'  considerations,'  as  they  call  them.  In  the 
first  place,  he  said  that,  while  we  appreciated 
the  girls,  the  other  trustees  would  see  in 
them  'raw  material ' tmly.  Ruth,  whom  he 
thought  to  be  the  older,  was  shy  in  her  man- 
ner :  would  she  have  force  enough  to  control 
high-spirited  pupils  ?  Madge  had  sufficient 
energy,  but  she  is  so  erratic  sometimes.  He 
feared  that  the  trustees  would  find  their  lack 
of  experience  a  great  objection,  though  I 
told  him  that  Madge  had  taught  a  little  in 
one  department  of  Mrs.  Allen's  school,  and 
was  to  have  been  regularly  engaged." 


GRANDMA'S  BIRTHDAY.  191 

Loraine  grew  sober  as  Mary  proceeded ; 
and  when  she  ceased,  as  if  she  had  said  all 
there  was  to  be  said,  she  was  too  much  dis- 
appointed to  remember  that  Mr.  Parker 
must  have  something  further  to  propose  if 
she  had  rightly  understood  Mary. 

As  Loraine  asked  no  question,  Mary,  look- 
ing a  little  embarrassed,  continued  : 

"  Father  said  that  if  you,  Miss  Faye,  were 
a  candidate,  there  would  not  be  the  least 
trouble.  You  are  older,  and  you  have  more 
of  what  we  schoolgirls  used  laughingly  to 
call  '  presence.'  You  have  been  a  postgrad- 
uate and  have  taught  somewhat,  have  you 
not?" 

"  Yes,  but  I  do  not  need  to  teach,  and  to 
take  a  place  here  when  the  girls  are  so  per- 
plexed—" 

"  I  understand  exactly,"  said  Mary,  hur- 
riedly. "But  what  did  occur  at  last  to 
father  as  feasible — if  only  you  agreed — and 
perhaps  it  would  seem  absurd  to  you — " 

"  Go  on,  do !"  laughed  Loraine. 

"  No  doubt  that  you  could  get  in  other 
places  a  larger  salary  than  Miss  Elder  re- 
ceived here;  but  if  Madge  or  Ruth  could  be 


192  THE  SILENT  MAN'S  LEGACY. 

•accepted,  father  says  he  would  have  to 
struggle  hard  to  keep  the  trustees  from 
reducing  the  salary.  Now,  Miss  Elder  was 
really  a  little  overworked — or,  rather,  she 
would  "have  been  if  she  had  been  faithful  to 
all  her  scholars.  Father  says  if  you  could  be 
persuaded  to  take  the  lady-principal's  posi- 
tion he  might  get  either  Ruth  or  Madge  in 
with  you  as  an  under-teacher ;  Mr.  Sedgewick 
is  very  solicitous  to  have  two  teachers  in 
Miss  Elder's  place.  Your  salary  would  not  be 
large,  and  the  other  lady's  would  be  less,  but 
after  a  year,  perhaps,  you  might  want  to 
resign ;  then  the  other  Preston  sister  might 
come  in,  and  the  first  be  promoted.  Now, 
of  course  nothing  but  friendship  would 
influence  you  if  you  should  be  induced  to 
undertake  this." 

"  Two  things  would  induce  me — yes,  would 
be  a  downright  temptation,  Mary,"  exclaimed 
Loraine,  her  face  kindling  with  a  brightness 
that  made  it  positively  beautiful.  "I  should 
have  an  aim  in  life,  something  that  I  ought 
to  do  well  and  something  well  worth  doing — 
to  raise,  as  you  say,  the  standard  of  scholar- 
ship and  of  character  here  among  the  Hemp- 


GRANDMA  'S  BIRTHDA  Y.  1 93 

stead  young  girls,  and  to  be  of  real  use  to 
Madge  and  Ruth.  The  salary  is  nothing  to 
me.  I  am  not  rich  at  all,  if  it  is  a  question 
of  actual  wealth,  but  I  have  enough  to  live 
on  in  idleness  all  my  life ;  which,  please  God, 
I  never  will  do.  Now,  if  your  father  could 
get  two  of  us  into  that  place,  let  him  be  the 
one  to  pay  the  salaries,  and  let  us  together 
manage  that  to  suit  ourselves.  Two-thirds 
of  mine  can  be  judiciously  applied  to  my 
assistant,  and  nobody  but  your  father  and  I 
be  the  wiser.  On  that  one  condition  I  will 
gladly  take  the  place  if  I  can  get  it.  I 
shall  be  doing  nothing  generous,  either, 
Mary ;  for  in  this  way  I  can  stay  on  in  a 
home.  You  don't  know  what  a  forlorn 
feeling  has  come  over  me  at  the  thought  of 
leaving  the  Preston s.  Grandmother  has 
been  a  gospel  to  me ;  until  I  knew  her  I 
never  dared  to  believe  that  I  was  a  Christian. 
She  has  taught  me  to  think  in  such  a  strange 
new  way  about  Christ  himself  that  every 
day's  living  is  all  different — is  just  trusting 
and  being  helped,  giving  thanks  and  wish- 
ing to  draw  somebody  else  into  the  light.  I 
would  not  have  dared  to  teach  six  months — 

13 


194  THE  SILENT  MAN'S  LEGACY. 

yes,  three  months — ago.  I  was  alone  then 
in  the  world,  without  a  friend  who  was  in 
any  sense  a  helper." 

Mary  took  Loraine's  hand  in  a  warm 
clasp  and  kissed  her  for  the  first  time ;  then 
she  said, 

"  Now  let  us  go  down  to  father." 
Mr.  Parker  was  glad  to  enter  on  a 
thorough  discussion  of  the  subject,  and  be- 
fore they  were  well  under  way  Mr.  Sedge- 
wick  himself  was  announced.  Both  gentle- 
men were  convinced  that  Miss  Faye  would 
suit  the  ideas  of  the  most  obstinate  trustee. 
She  had  a  woman's  dignity  and  the  perfect 
good-breeding  of  a  refined  nature  reared  in 
an  atmosphere  of  wealth  and  culture ;  thought, 
study  and  trouble  had  very  early  taught  her 
to  stand  alone  and  to  hold  her  own.  If  she 
would  not  take  the  place  without  an  assist- 
ant, which  Miss  Preston  should  it  be? 
Mr.  Parker  inclined  toward  his  favorite 
Madge;  Mr.  Sedgewick,  alleging  his  igno- 
rance, kept  a  discreet  silence.  Loraine  was 
in  doubt.  She  thought  the  school  might  be 
good  for  Madge ;  she  was  sure  Ruth  would 
be  good  for  the  school.  Mary  proposed  that 


GRANDMA  'S  BIRTHDA  Y.  1 95 

the  matter  should  be  left  to  the  Professor, 
who  would  probably  be  the  best  judge. 

When  the  old  clock  on  the  stairs  struck 
one,  Loraine,  refusing  urgent  invitations  to 
dinner,  ran  away  down  the  long  garden, 
"'cross-lots,"  home,  with  the  lightest  heart 
that  she  had  carried  for  years.  She  was 
going  to  be  necessary  to  somebody,  to  be 
loved  and  trusted,  to  be  a  helper  in  God's 
good  work  in  the  world.  Madge  could  not 
have  understood  that  desire.  Why,  this 
Loraine  could  go  to  her  city  friends  and 
enter  on  a  career  of  social  enjoyment;  she 
was  young,  handsome,  cultivated,  fascinating 
when  she  chose  to  exert  her  powers;  yet 
she  chose  to  board  with  a  country  school- 
teacher and  to  tie  herself  up  to  a  daily  rou- 
tine of  duty.  Madge  would  have  called  her 
a  foolish  creature  without  ambition. 


CHAPTER  X. 

TIDINGS  FROM   COLORADO. 

"Auo.  15,  18— 

FOLKS:  How  I  do  long  to  see 
every  one  of  you,  and  every  pot  and 
pan  in  the  dear  old  kitchen  !  Seems  to  me 
I  never  did  appreciate  the  conveniences  of 
what  you  might  call  '  polite  life '  till  I  came 
out  here  to  live  with  human  creeters  who 
make  no  difference  betwixt  and  between  a 
dish-cloth  and  a  duster,  if  so  be  they  have 
either,  not  to  speak  of  morals,  which  are 
dreadful.  After  I  get  home  and  at  ease 
again,  with  all  the  apply  in  gcies  for  good 
clean  cooking  and  housekeeping  in  a  Chris- 
tian fashion,  if  ever  murmurous  thoughts 
come  a-gurglin'  up  in  me,  I  hope  I'll  re- 
member Colorado  and  Miss  Peterses  board- 
ing-house. If  I  hain't  done  much  toward 
recuperating  your  uncle,  I  have  saved  his 

196 


TIDINGS  FROM  COLORADO.  197 

life  time  and  again  by  not  letting  him  swal- 
ler  the  mixtures  that  woman  calls  vittnls 
and  drink.  I  feel  real  discouraged  about 
him.  He  don't  suffer  to  speak  of,  but  he 
is  considerably  feebler  in  body  and  mind 
than  when  I  came.  I  thought  he  would  die 
surely  last  week,  for  he  began  to  talk  off  and 
on  by  spells.  He  says  he  can't  live  but  a 
little  while,  and  I  will  tell  you  just  what  he 
said  then,  and  so  later,  when  I  am  carrying 
out  his  directions,  you  will  understand.  He 
said  if  he  was  to  die  here  I  am  to  go  to  the 
nearest  telegraph-office  (six  miles  off)  and 
send  for  a  man  in  Denver  who  is  a  lawyer  and 
a  friend  of  your  uncle  Henry's.  This  Mr. 
French  will  attend  to  everything,  as  he  has 
been  already  instructed.  Your  uncle  wishes 
to  be  taken  to  Denver  and  buried.  I  am  to 
see  all  done,  and  then  to  stay  in  Denver 
while  Mr.  French  settles  up  some  business 
and  tells  me  when  to  go  home.  There  are 
a  few  papers  and  trifles  belonging  to  your 
uncle  that  I  am  to  bring  with  me.  After 
this  talk  he  seemed  brighter,  and  this  week 
he  rests  so  quietly  it  seems  to  me  that  he 
ought  to  get  well;  but  the  doctor  says  he 


198  THE  SILENT  MAN'S  LEGACY. 

can't.  I  have  asked  him — the  doctor — to 
write  out  for  the  Professor  just  what  ails  his 
brother,  because  I  might  not  report  things 
as  they  are,  for  there  is  so  much  more  inside 
of  folks  besides  heart  and  lungs  and  stom- 
ach than  ever  I  heard  of  before — dykes,  or 
ducks,  and  sacks  and  organs,  all  easy  got  out 
of  kilter.  I  only  wonder  any  of  us  live  at 
all,  let  alone  the  weakly  ones." 

At  this  point  in  her  letter  Abby  went  off 
into  a  detailed  account  of  her  daily  doings 
quite  too  voluminous  for  quotation.  Then 
came  a  sudden  break,  and  the  letter  was  not 
finished  until  ten  days  later,  when  it  ran 
thus: 

"DEAR  FOLKS:  I  ought  to  have  sent 
this  before,  but  I  have  not  seen  the  moment 
when  I  could  stop  to  write  down  the  sad 
events  that  I  was  passing  through.  I  tele- 
graphed you  the  day  Mr.  Preston  died,  so  you 
will  be  anxious  to  know  all  there  is  to  tell. 
Well,  about  the  time  I  stopped  in  my  letter 
he  began  to  fail  very  fast.  That  afternoon 
he  seemed  to  want  to  be  entirely  alone,  so  I 


TIDINGS  FROM  COLORADO.  191/ 

hovered  around  outside  his  door  until  even- 
ing, when  I  had  to  make  him  take  some 
nourishment.  After  it  he  said,  'Abby,  tell 
them  I  say  God  bless  each  one  of  them.  I 
love  them  all,  if  I  did  not  talk  about  it. 
Philip  was  always  a  good  brother,  and  his 
wife —  Tell  her  and  grandmother  they 
kept  alive  my  faith  in  God — and  in  good 
women.'  Then  I  think  he  kind  of  wandered, 
talking  about  an  Eleanor  that  he  said  he 
forgave  and  being  sorry  that  she  came  to 
want.  I  wouldn't  have  asked  a  question, 
and  had  no  idea  of  hearing  a  dying  man's 
secrets  that  he  never  told  when  he  was  him- 
self, but  long  as  I  did  hear  more  and  could 
not  help  it  I'll  feel  better  to  confess  it  to 
you.  He  talked  about  expecting  to  marry 
this  Eleanor  and  thinking  she  was  too  good 
for  him  or  any  man,  and  she  went  and  mar- 
ried a  rich  man  because  she  must  have  mon- 
ey ;  and  I  reckon  your  uncle  found  it  so 
hard  to  forget  that  he  has  been  ever  since 
forgiving  and  forgetting  it  in  that  awfully 
silent  way  of  his.  About  midnight  he 
dozed,  and  waked  up  with  his  mind  clear  as 
a  bell,  only  he  kept  on  talking  as  freely  as 


200  THE  SILENT  MAN'S  LEGACY. 

anybody.  He  didn't  like  the  smell  of  a  lamp 
in  the  room,  so  I  had  the  windows  wide 
open,  and  he  said,  pointing  out,  '  That  is  my 
star,  Abby.  I  lie  here  and  watch  it  every 
night.  It  makes  me  think  of  my  mother, 
dead  these  fifty  years,  and  that  old  hymn : 

"  When,  marshaled  on  the  nightly  plain, 

The  glittering  host  bestud  the  sky, 
One  star  alone  of  all  the  train 

Can  fix  the  sinner's  wandering  eye." ' 

Then  he  whispered  kind  of  to  himself, 

' "  Death-struck,  I  ceased  the  tide  to  stem," ' 

and  the  rest  of  it  about  the  '  port  of  peace.' 
It  was  solemn,  and  I  felt  pretty  sure  that  he 
hadn't  any  fears  of  dying;  but  poetry  and 
hymns  is  not  exactly  like  testimony,  and 
seems  as  if  I  had  to  ask  him  if  he  was 
prepared  to  go.  He  answered  as  gently  as 
could  be :  '  My  flesh  and  my  heart  .faileth, 
but  God  is  the  strength  of  my  heart  and  my 
portion  for  ever.' 

"  I  set  up  all  night  just  inside  the  door, 
and  Miss  Peters  she  watched  the  other  side 
of  the  threshold.  About  two  o'clock  he 


TIDIXGS  FROM  COLORADO.  201 

sent  his  love  to  Ruth  and  Madge,  and  said 
tell  them  to  be  good  girls.  After  that  there 
was  not  much  sense  to  his  talk.  He  thought 
he  was  a  boy  playing  in  a  field  full  of 
dandelions,  but  most  generally  it  was  all 
confused  with  that  star  of  Bethlehem,  as  he 
kept  calling  it.  In  the  dim  light  I  could 
see  his  long  white  fingers  trembling  in  the 
air,  pointing  out  the  window,  and  him  mut- 
tering how  his  mother  led  him  until  the  star 
'  came  and  stood  over  where  the  young  Child 
was,'  and  how  she  said  now  he  would  'see 
Jesus.' 

"  Toward  morning  is  always  the  time  sick 
folkses'  life  seems  to  run  lowest,  so  we  tried 
to  tide  him  over  with  stimulants.  He  let  us 
do  anything  we  wanted  to,  but  just  about 
daybreak  he  turned  his  face  on  the  pillow, 
a  feeble  little  quiver  ran  around  his  mouth, 
and  that  was  all.  I  sent  right  after  Mr. 
French,  and  he  came  and  did  everything 
that  the  Professor  himself  could  have  done. 

"  I  will  tell  you  every  single  particular 
when  I  get  home,  which  I  hope  will  be 
soon. 

"Everybody  was  kind  as  kind  could  be, 


202  THE  SILENT  MAN'S  LEGACY. 

and  such  as  had  ever  had  anything  to  do 
with  Mr.  Henry  said  that,  if  he  was  not 
noisy,  he  was  the  most  blameless  man  they 
ever  seen.  Some  who  had  never  met  him, 
and  so  could  not  know  he  was  a  gentleman, 
took  him  to  be  my  uncle  or  father. 

"  The  night  we  started  for  Denver,  before 
the  coffin  was  put  in  its  box,  one  of  those 
wicked  women  I  wrote  you  about  came  in 
the  twilight  and  asked  for  me.  (That  sick 
one  of  them  died,  and  they  had  known  I 
prayed  with  her  about  at  the  last,  and  she 
prayed  too,  thank  the  Lord !)  Well,  this 
poor  creeter,  she  never  said  a  word  at  first, 
but  held  out  something  white  so  sudden  it 
scared  me  until  I  saw  that  it  was  a  most 
beautiful  cross  of  the  very  purest  blossoms 
that  could  be  found  here.  '  It  is  for  your 
father,'  said  she,  '  and  God  bless  you  wher- 
ever you  go  now !'  Then,  before  I  could 
speak,  she  kissed  my  rough  hand  and  was 
off.  I  was  so  nervous-like  I  broke  right 
out  crying  when  I  put  those  snow-white 
things  on  the  coffin.  To  think  of  her  being 
so  grateful  for  almost  nothing!  I  suppose  it 
is  being  away  off  alone  here  that  makes  me 


TIDIXGS  FROM  COLORADO.  203 

realize  my  blessings  when  I  see  such  lives  as 
these  people  lead — all  taken  up  with  making 
a  little  money  or  having  what  they  think  is 
amusement. 

"  I  have  been  dreadfully  homesick  in  this 
little  dirty,  noisy  settlement  of  the  queerest 
men  and  women  I  ever  knew,  but,  putting 
Mr.  Henry  out  of  the  question,  I  am  so 
glad  I  came !  Living  in  such  luxury  all  my 
life  since  I  come  out  of  that  orphan  asylum, 
I  had  got  regularly  hard-hearted." 

A  letter  from  his  brother's  doctor  had 
fully  prepared  the  Professor  for  the  sad  news 
soon  after  telegraphed  from  Abby.  It  was 
not  at  all  to  the  little  family  what  the  death 
of  one  of  their  own  immediate  circle  would 
have  been,  and  none  of  them  thought  of 
assuming  a  grief  more  poignant  than  was 
actually  felt.  Uncle  Henry  had  come  and 
gone  in  and  out  of  the  household  more  like  a 
shadow  than  like  an  ordinary  man  of  words 
and  deeds.  He  rarely  touched  their  lives 
and  he  lived  his  own  in  silence,  but  because  he 
was  gentle,  pure-minded  and  often  generous 
they  loved  him  for  what  he  was  and  pitied 


204  THE  SILENT  MAN'S  LEGACY. 

him  for  what  he  was  not — namely,  a  man 
with  interests  in  common  with  other  men. 
They  grieved  sincerely  to  think  that  he 
would  never  come  among  them  any  more. 
Each  one  wondered  if  he  or  she  had  always 
been  careful  enough  of  his  unspoken  pref- 
erences, sympathetic  enough  to  one  who 
never  complained. 

It  touched  Loraine  inexpressibly  to  hear 
the  way  in  which  the  elder  ones  in  this  fam- 
ily talked  of  death.  She  had  seen  passion- 
ate, indignant  sorrow  and  bitter  revolt  in  the 
presence  of  the  dread  messenger,  she  had 
seen  hypocritical  tears  and  open  indiffer- 
ence, but  no  one  had  ever  seemed  to  love  to 
talk  about  the  Father's  house,  making  no 
more  of  the  brief  passage  there  than  of  a 
step  across  a  dim  vestibule. 

"  The  poor  lonesome  man  will  have  some 
society  now,"  was  one  of  grandmother's 
quaint  remarks.  "  His  mother  will  know 
just  what  to  talk  to  him  about,  and  he  will 
be  interested  to  see  William  the  Silent,  for 
he  used  to  say  he  was  a  grand  Christian. 
Henry  was  so  shy  here  on  earth,  and  so 
outside  of  other  people's  pursuits,  that  the 


TIDINGS  FROM  COLORADO.  205 

zhange  to  strength  and  peace  and  perfect 
love  will  be  wonderful — wonderful — when 
he  shall  see  the  King  in  his  glory  and  the 
Saviour.  He  trusted  in  Christ — I  always 
knew  that — and  he  tried  to  keep  his  com- 
mandments ;  so  now,  as  Bunyan  says,  '  the 
smallest  saint,  when  he  gets  to  heaven,  shall 
have  an  angel's  dignity,  and  his  knowledge 
of  the  love  of  Christ  shall  surpass  all  ours 
•  here,  even  as  the  light  of  the  sun  at  noon 
goes  beyond  the  light  of  a  blinking  candle 
at  midnight.'  Think  of  all  that  for  the  poor 
forlorn  old  bachelor !  I  always  knew  he  had 
at  some  time  fallen  in  with  a  hard-hearted 
woman,  just  as  Abby's  letter  shows.  Well, 
that's  all  nothing  to  him  now.  Nothing 
on  earth  is  any  matter,  except  sin,  that 
separates  us  from  God  if  we  let  it  go  un- 
forgiven." 

The  day  that  Abby's  letter  was  received 
had  been  a  terribly  hard  one  for  Mrs.  Pres- 
ton. Loraine  had  not  yet  heard  from  the 
trustees,  and  so  was  not  authorized  to  tell 
what  Mr.  Parker  had  discussed  with  her  in 
regard  to  the  academy.  The  Professor  had 


206  THE  SILENT  MAN'S  LEGACY. 

utterly  failed  to  find  any  position  whatever ; 
he  had  even  tried  to  get  an  agency  or  a  place 
in  some  book-store.  He  would  gladly  accept 
any  honest  employment  that  would  ensure 
his  family  the  plainest,  simplest  support 
Everybody  wanted  "a  younger  man,"  or  a 
"single  man,"  or  one  who  could  talk 
"  French  and  German,"  etc.  As  the  time  ap- 
proached when  usually  he  began  his  year's 
work  he  grew  almost  desperate.  If  he  had 
been,  as  had  been  his  brother  Henry,  a  sin- 
gle man,  he  could — or  so  it  seemed  to  him — 
throw  off  this  burden  of  worry  for  the  fu- 
ture, could  meet  poverty  for  himself  without 
flinching.  He  was  not  by  nature  so  hope- 
ful and  trusting  as  his  wife,  but,  like  his 
brother,  he  was  more  brooding  and  under 
trial  inclined  to  despond. 

Abby's  letter  came  late  in  the  afternoon, 
and  its  contents  took  off  the  Professor's 
mind  from  his  own  troubles,  which  that  day 
had  threatened  to  overwhelm  his  faith  in  a 
protecting  Providence.  In  the  forenoon  his 
wife  had  gone  to  his  room  and  found  him 
pacing  back  and  forth.  Something  in  his 
face  told  her  all  she  needed  to  know  of  the 


TIDINGS  FROM  COLORADO.  207 

letter  lying  on  his  desk — his  last  forlorn 
hope  in  the  way  of  an  application.  She 
dusted  the  worn  bookcase,  put  papers  tidily 
on  the  table  and  drew  the  curtain  to  hide  a 
little  better  the  old  carpet,  from  which  the 
pattern  had  wellnigh  faded ;  then  she  said 
in  that  gentle  way  of  hers, 

" '  I  have  been  young  and  now  am  old, 
yet  have  I  not  seen  the  righteous  forsaken 
or  his  seed  begging  bread.'" 

"  I  too  feel  like  quoting  Scripture,"  he 
broke  out,  vehemently.  "The  words  go 
over  and  over  in  my  brain  :  '  Why  is  light 
given  to  a  man  whose  way  is  hid  and  whom 
God  has  hedged  in  ?  For  the  thing  that  I 
greatly  feared  is  come  on  me,  and  that 
which  I  was  afraid  of  is  come  unto  me.' " 

The  patient  little  wife's  eyes  filled  with 
tears  as,  looking  up,  she  noted  how  dark 
were  the  circles  under  his  tired  eyes— how 
even  his  hair  seemed  to  have  grown  grayer. 
Her  sensitive  lips  trembled  over  the  words, 

" '  He  shall  deliver  thee  in  six  troubles, 
yea  in  seven  there  shall  no  evil  touch 
thee.' " 

Mr.  Prestou  would  not  look  at  her,  per- 


208  THE  SILEXT  MAX'S  LEGACY. 

haps  knowing  that  if  he  did  he  could  not 
reply  so  almost  bitterly  : 

'  When  I  looked  for  good,  evil  came  unto 
me;  and  when  I  waited  for  light,  there 
came  darkness.  When  I  lie  down,  I  say. 
When  shall  I  arise  and  the  night  be  gone  ? 
and  I  am  full  of  tossings  to  and  fro  until 
the  dawning  of  the  day.' " 

The  Professor  had  read  the  grand  chap- 
ters of  Job  to  her  far  too  often  for  his  wife 
to  forget  to  answer  him  lovingly  : 

" '  Behold,  happy  is  the  man  whom  God 
correcteth,  therefore  despise  not  thou  the 
chastening  of  the  Almighty.  For  he  maketh 
sore  and  bindeth  up :  he  woundeth  and  his 
hands  make  whole. ' '  She  waited  a  minute 
before  she  went  on :  "It  is  very  hard, 
Philip,  to  go  on  with  blind  eyes  and  keep 
faith  bright  in  the  heart,  but  God  knows 
that  we  trust  him,  and  perhaps  this  time 
next  year  we  shall  be  amazed  at  our  dovvn- 
heartedness  of  to-day  and  '  remember  it  as 
waters  that  pass  away ' — this  care  that  now 
burdens  us." 

Mr.  Preston  wheeled  suddenly  about  and 
looked  the  speaker  full  in  the  face  : 


TIDINGS  FROM  COLORADO.  209 

"  Do  you  yourself  feel  the  hope  and  the 
comfort  that  you  are  so  bravely  trying'  to 
put  into  me?" 

"  I  say  to  myself,  Philip,  a  hundred  times 
a  day,  that  God  never  failed  me  yet ;  so  why 
should  he  fail  me  now  ?  I  think  I  realize 
our  circumstances." 

There  was  a  little  quaver  in  the  lady's 
voice  that  touched  the  Professor  with  a 
remorseful  fear  lest  he  was  selfish  in  crushing 
her  with  a  double  trouble — her  own  and  his. 
He  drew  her  down  by  him  on  the  lounge, 
saying, 

"  You  are  a  great  deal  braver  than  your 
useless  old  husband,  and  a  blessing  to  him 
that  ought  to  comfort  him  under  any  trial. 
The  darkest  day  must  come  in  every  year, 
and  this  may  be  it." 

"  It  might  be  darker,  Philip,"  she  returned, 
almost  reproachfully,  then  added,  "  We  have 
not  heard  from  Madge  yet;  she  may  have 
had  some  answer  to  her  application  for  a 
teacher's  place." 

"  Could  we  live  on  that  child's  earnings  ?" 

"  We  are  not  really  destitute  yet :  grand- 
mother's gift  filled  the  flour-barrel." 


210  THE  SILENT  MAN'S  LEGACY. 

"  That  is  the  last  straw — to  come  down  to 
taking  her  little  pittance  given  in  charity." 

Mrs.  Preston  burst  into  tears.  She  was 
worn  out  with  overwork  and  the  tension  of 
every  nerve.  If  her  husband  was  to  be 
soured  by  anxiety,  it  seemed  to  her  just  then 
that  she  could  not  endure  with  serenity  any 
more  worry.  He  was  instantly  sorry  and 
ashamed,  and  comforted  her  as  best  he  could, 
but  she  went  away  with  a  heavy  heart. 
Everything  tired  her  after  that;  all  her 
elasticity  seemed  to  have  gone.  Her  head 
ached  in  a  dull,  numb  way ;  and  when  she 
tried  to  plan,  or  even  to  pray,  her  thoughts 
wandered  confusedly.  Abby's  letter  with 
the  news  of  Mr.  Henry  Preston's  death 
came  about  supper-time,  and  the  rest  of  the 
family  attributed  her  pale  face  and  silence  to 
her  feeling  in  regard  to  her  brother-in-law. 
Meanwhile,  she  was  reproaching  herself  for 
hard-heartedness.  The  contents  of  that 
letter,  as  read  by  Ruth,  fell  on  her  ears  like 
something  listened  to  in  a  dream.  It  almost 
seemed  to  her  that  she  had  heard  it  all  be- 
fore, and  had  known  that  Uncle  Henry  was 
dead.  She  wondered  if  he  suffered,  and 


TIDINGS  FROM  COLORADO.  211 

found  herself  thinking  that  Abby  had  not 
lighted  the  hall-lamp,  then  remembered  that 
Abby  was  in  Denver  and  that  Ruth  was 
still  reading  her  letter ;  and  oh  how  a  poor 
tired  head  can  ache ! 

The  family  sat  a  long  time  talking  of  the 
different  points  Abby  had  touched  on,  until 
Loraine,  happening  to  look  at  Mrs.  Preston, 
saw  the  utter  weariness  in  her  pale  face  and 
the  hands  that  seemed  to  lie  helpless  in  her 
lap.  She  stole  quietly  behind  the  others 
and  whispered, 

"  Dear  Mrs.  Preston,  you  look  really  ill. 
Do  go  right  to  bed  and  let  me  help  Ruth 
do  anything  that  remains  to  be  done  to- 
night." 

To  Loraine's  surprise,  Mrs.  Preston  yielded 
instantly,  saying, 

"  Don't  worry  them,  but  I  feel  faint.  Let 
me  lean  on  you  a  little,  and  I  will  get  to  my 
room  and  lie  quiet  a  while." 

Loraine  helped  Mrs.  Preston  there  and 
brought  her  a  cup  of  tea,  and  then  went 
back  to  do  some  little  things  that  Mrs.  Pres- 
ton usually  attended  to,  and  which  Ruth — 
her  mind  full  of  the  letter — forgot.  When 


212  THE  SILENT  MAN'S  LEGACY. 

they  separated,  later,  Loraine  was  moved  to 
say  how  worn  out  Ruth's  mother  seemed, 
but,  reflecting  that  Ruth  would  surely  see  it 
the  next  day,  and  in  any  case  could  hardly 
be  more  thoughtful  than  she  already  was,  she 
said  nothing. 

The  next  morning  Mrs.  Preston  was  up 
and  about  the  house,  a  little  fagged  until 
toward  noon ;  after  that  unusually  bright,  for 
something  pleasant  occurred.  Mr.  Parker 
called  and  offered  positions  in  the  academy 
to  Miss  Faye  and  Miss  Preston.  Which 
Miss  Preston  he  would  not  decide;  he  in- 
clined toward  Madge.  The  salary  offered 
Miss  Preston  was  liberal  beyond  anything 
the  Professor  could  have  expected  from  his 
own  experience;  and  when  Mr.  Parker  re- 
marked that  Miss  Faye  would  be  offered  one 
somewhat  larger  still,  only  Loraine  and  he 
understood  their  private  arrangement  where- 
by the  other  teacher  was  to  profit. 

There  was  for  the  rest  of  the  day  a  lively 
discussion  as  to  which  sister  should  begin  the 
work,  and,  after  all,  it  was  concluded  to  leave 
the  decision  to  Madge  herself.  The  school 
opened  the  first  week  in  September ;  a  letter 


TIDINGS  FROM  COLORADO.  213 

setting  forth  the  matter  could  be  written  to 
Madge,  who,  if  she  wished  the  position, 
might  return  within  the  following  ten  days. 

When  the  Professor  heard  the  news,  he 
received  it  with  resignation  rather  than  with 
the  pleasure  which  Loraine  had  hoped  for, 
but  in  his  present  depression  nothing  looked 
promising.  He  remembered  all  the  trials 
sure  to  meet  any  teacher  in  that  academy, 
and  fancied  how  certain  annoyances  would 
irritate  his  spirited  Madge  or  wound  sensi- 
tive, conscientious  Ruth. 

It  was  very  late  that  night  before  Ruth 
could  dismiss  the  subject  from  her  mind  and 
calm  herself  to  sleep.  No  one  dreamed  how 
she  shrank  from  the  thought  of  having  to 
take  the  offered  place.  The  indifference,  crit- 
icism, contact  with  rudeness  and  opposition 
that  would  arouse  Madge  to  conquer  them 
would  hurt  and  dishearten  Ruth,  but,  all  the 
same,  she  would  attempt  whatever  was  duty, 
and  fail  doing  her  best  if  fail  she  must. 
She  had  just  fallen  into  a  troubled  sleep 
after  midnight  when  a  hand  was  laid  on  her 
arm  and  her  father's  voice  was  heard  in  the 
darkness  saying, 


214  THE  SILENT  MAN'S  LEGACY. 

"Ruth,  will  you  dress  yourself  at  once 
and  come  to  your  mother  ?  I  am  afraid  she 
is  going  to  be  very  ill.  I  am  going  now  for 
Dr.  Hickox.  Her  head  pains  her  so  badly 
I  don't  think  it  best  to  wait  until  morning." 

Trembling  with  the  chill  of  sudden  alarm 
and  nervousness,  Ruth  hurried  on  her  cloth- 
ing and  hastened  down  stairs  just  as  her  fa- 
ther closed  the  front  door  behind  him.  Her 
mother's  low  moans  of  pain  distressed  her 
greatly,  for  nothing  she  could  do  gave  any 
relief,  and,  indeed,  Mrs.  Preston  seemed  hard- 
ly aware  that  Ruth  was  there  trying  to  do 
for  her. 

The  doctor  came  with  Mr.  Preston  almost 
immediately.  After  giving  several  orders 
to  Ruth  he  prepared  a  quieting  potion  for 
Mrs.  Preston  and  said  that  he  would  stay 
and  watch  its  effects.  He  was  as  unruffled 
as  ever,  and  Ruth  argued  from  his  manner 
that  her  mother  was  not  so  ill  as  she  had 
feared,  especially  when,  witli  a  joke  about 
improving  his  time,  the  old  doctor  stretched 
himself  on  the  sofa  in  the  next  room  and 
was  soon  placidly  snoring.  Almost  every 
half  hour,  however,  he  came  into  the  bed- 


TIDINGS  FROM  COLORADO.  215 

room  to  examine  his  patient  and  note  any 
change.  Before  daylight  he  made  Ruth 
herself  go  for  a  brief  rest. 

When  Loraine  came  into  the  dining-room 
next  morning,  the  first  impression  which 
she  received  was  that  of  a  breakfast-table 
set  by  some  "  raw  "  Irish  girl.  Every  dish 
was  at  odds  with  every  other;  caster  and 
coffee-pot  were  vis-a-vis,  and  napkins  were 
nowhere.  When  Johnny  was  seen  through 
an  open  door  laboriously  cutting  a  loaf  as  if 
it  were  a  green-wood  log,  Loraiue  went 
quickly  to  ask, 

"  Is  anything  the  matter  ?" 

Grandmother,  coming  from  the  kitchen, 
told  Loraine  the  state  of  affairs,  but  no  one 
seemed  greatly  alarmed  until  some  hours 
later ;  then  all  understood  that  Mrs.  Preston 
had  been  taken  very  seriously  ill.  The 
doctor  gave  no  name  to  the  attack,  though 
Loraiue  heard  him  say  something  about 
typhoid  symptoms.  Before  night  Mrs.  Pres- 
ton was  delirious. 

"  Oh,  if  only  Abby  were  here !"  groaned 
the  Professor ;  but  Abby  was  not  there,  and 


216  THE  SILENT  MAN'S  LEGACY. 

there  had  to  be  speedy  counsel  taken. 
Grandmother,  Ruth  and  the  Professor  were 
to  care  for  the  sick  mother,  resting  by  turns 
and  holding  out  as  long  as  possible  before 
calling  in  outside  help.  Madge  was  to  be 
summoned  at  once,  and  she  and  Johnny 
must  carry  on  the  house  as  best  they  could. 
For  Loraine  no  one  planned,  but  before 
many  hours  everybody  felt  her  to  be  a 
power  for  effective  help  ;  she  cared  for  every- 
body and  thought  coolly  when  all  were  in  a 
quiver  of  excitement  and  fear. 

"  That  is  a  grand  good  girl !"  exclaimed 
the  doctor  the  second  day,  when  Loraine 
made  grandmother  take  a  cup  of  tea,  sent 
Ruth  for  a  nap  and  was  off  to  the  kitchen 
washing  dishes.  "  I  thought  she  held  her 
head  pretty  high  the  first  time  I  saw  her ;  but 
she  ought  to  do  so :  it's  a  head  worth  having, 
and  there's  a  heart  to  match.  When  is 
Madge  coming?" 

"  I  telegraphed  last  night,"  said  the  Pro- 
fessor. "  She  will  probably  be  here  by  the 
first  express  train  to-day." 

"And  that  wall-eyed  Abby — where  is 
she?" 


TIDINGS  FROM  COLORADO.  217 

"Abby  can't  get  here ;  she  is  detained  in 
Denver.  Oh,  if  she  could  come !" 

"Don't  take  things  too  hard,  Professor; 
keep  yourself  up  and  we  will  pull  through, 
please  God,  and  come  out  all  right  again," 
said  Dr.  Hickox. 

The  Professor  turned  quickly  away  and 
shut  himself  into  his  room.  He  knew  the 
doctor  thought  his  wife  very  ill ;  he  had 
sent  to  a  near  town  for  counsel,  and  his  do- 
ing that  so  promptly  proved  his  unusual 
solicitude. 

The  Professor  sank  into  a  corner  of  the 
old  sofa,  and  as  he  buried  his  face  in  his 
hands  he  suddenly  recalled  the  incident  of 
the  day  before  yesterday.  He  saw  his  wife's 
troubled  face  and  heard  her  pathetic  re- 
sponse :  "  It  might  be  darker."  What  if 
there  should  come  a  day  when  she  was  not 
in  the  house,  but  gone  for  ever?  At  the 
thought  of  a  day  so  "dark,"  so  black,  as 
that,  he  groaned  aloud  and  accused  himself 
of  past  ingratitude.  What  was  poverty  with 
wife  and  children  compared  with  life  with- 
out any  one  of  them?  Conscience-smitten 
for  the  past  and  weighed  down  by  apprehen- 


218  THE  SILENT  MAN'S  LEGACY. 

sioDs  heavier  than  any  felt  before,  he  took 
refuge  in  prayer,  pleading  most  earnestly, 

"'Hide   not  thy  face  from    thy  servant, 
for  I  am  in  trouble.     Hear  me  speedily.' " 


CHAPTER  XI. 

THE  MASCOT'S  RETURN. 

u  Sweet  promptings  unto  kindest  deeds 

Were  in  her  very  look ; 
We  read  her  face  as  one  who  reads 
A  true  and  holy  book." 

WHITTIER. 

THE  next  three  weeks  were  the  darkest 
ever  known  in  the  old  yellow  house  on 
the  hill.  , During  all  that  time  the  mother's 
life  hung  in  a  balance,  and  more  than  once 
the  grim  hand  of  Death  seemed  touching  the 
scales.  There  were  days  when  the  hitherto 
soft  voice  rang  in  unfamiliar  tones  through 
the  house,  and  again  the  girls  must  bend 
low  to  hear  the  faint  whispers. 

Madge  was  as  helpful  as  Ruth  when  some 
one  told  her  exactly  what  to  do;  otherwise 
it  seemed  as  if  she  could  not  think.  She 
was,  as  it  were,  paralyzed  by  the  awful  afflic- 
tion that  threatened  them.  While  she  sat 

219 


220  THE  SILENT  MAN'S  LEGACY. 

motionless  in  the  darkened  room  there  was 
but  one  thing  that  seemed  more  unreal  to 
her  than  the  understanding  that  this  perhaps 
dying  person  was  her  bright,  sweet  mother : 
this  stranger  thing  was  her  own  giddy  self 
as  she  had  been  for  the  months  just  passed — 
the  Madge  whose  whole  interest  had  centred 
about  dress,  fashion,  dancing,  a  future  of 
pleasure  and  of  wealth,  a  present  wherein 
she  was  admired,  flattered,  even  greatly  dis- 
liked by  those  who  she  was  pleased  to 
believe  envied  her  the  sprightliness  and 
beauty  that  she  possessed.  Then,  if  all 
this  like  an  ugly  dream  were  thrust  out  of 
her  thoughts,  there  came  quietly  stealing 
into  her  memory  picture  after  picture  of  this 
home-life  over  which  a  black  curtain  seemed 
about  to  drop.  When  her  mother  had  been 
the  sunshine  of  it,  what  a  warm,  happy 
place  it  had  been,  like  some  spot  of  perpet- 
ual summer  for  ever  full  of  singing  birds  ! 
Could  it  be  possible  that  she  had  ever  turned 
her  back  almost  disdainfully  on  its  happy  qui- 
et, its  dainty  simplicity,  preferring  instead  the 
vulgar  glare  and  the  empty  show  of  a  sum- 
mer hotel  ?  A  cold  shiver  ran  over  the  girl 


THE  MASCOT'S  RETURN.  221 

whenever  she  recalled  the  blare  of  the  horns, 
the  crash  of  the  drums,  as  she  was  listening 
on  the  crowded  piazza  to  the  last  concert. 
Miss  Ventnor  had  tried  a  minute  before  to 
keep  Bert  Raynor  holding  her  sunshade,  and 
it  had  pleased  Madge  to  thwart  her  and  send 
him  for  her  own  letters.  He  brought  in- 
stead her  father's  telegram.  She  read  it, 
raised  her  eyes,  wild  with  the  momentous 
fact  that  her  precious  mother  was  ill  perhaps 
unto  death,  feeling  that  nothing  could  matter 
so  much  in  all  the  world,  and  then  for  one 
sickening  second  she  realized  that  nobody 
there  cared.  What  was  it  to  that  red-faced 
millionaire,  to  haughty  Mrs.  Ventnor  or  to 
supercilious  Maude  ?  Oh,  the  unreasoning, 
resistless  homesickness  that  seized  Madge 
then,  and  made  her  almost  beside  herself 
until  she  was  actually  on  the  way  to  Hemp- 
stead  !  Bert  had  been  very  kind  and  thought- 
ful. When  she  could  think  of  anything  be- 
sides her  mother,  she  now  remembered  this 
of  him  in  a  curious,  half-conscience-smitten 
way.  He  had  sent  his  love  to  her  mother 
with  his  eyes  filling  with  tears  as  he  said, 
"  She  was  always  so  good  to  me !"  He  would 


222  THE  SILENT  MAN'S  LEGACY. 

gladly   have   come   all  the  way  home  with 
Madge  if  she  would  have  let  him. 

The  day  before  the  academy  was  to  open 
the  school-year  Mary  Packer  came,  as  she 
had  come  daily,  to  bring  neighborly  offerings 
or  to  render  some  help,  but  this  time  she 
sought  Loraine,  saying, 

"  Father  has  arranged  it  all.  You  need 
not  even  trouble  to  speak  to  the  girls  or  the 
Professor,  for  I  see  their  anxiety  has  swal- 
lowed up  all  thought  of  outside  matters.  I 
will  take  the  place  with  you  and  teach  until 
one  or  another  of  the  girls  is  at  liberty.  If 
dear  Mrs.  Preston  dies,  it  might  be  the  only 
way  to  keep  Ruth  from  grieving  herself  into 
the  grave  after  her.  Madge  would  take  sor- 
row with  the  same  abandonment  with  which 
she  takes  everything  important,  but  it  would 
not  crush  her.  Do  you  think  there  is  any 
hope,  Loraine?" 

"  The  doctor  has  broken  up  the  fever,  but 
the  utter  prostration  that  remains  is  disheart- 
ening. There  does  not  seem  life  enough 
left  to  rally,"  whispered  Loraiue. 

"  I  am  afraid  that  many  more  days  of 


THE  MASCOT'S  RETURN.  223 

such  anxiety  will  wear  out  Ruth  and  her 
father;  he  looks  like  a  ghost." 

"  But,  Mary,  did  you  ever  see  anybody 
like  Grandmother  Grey  ?  She  works  and 
watches,  carries  everybody's  good  in  her 
mind,  and  yet  bears  up  better  than  all  the 
rest.  I  keep  thinking  of  that  verse  in  Isaiah : 
'  They  that  wait  upon  the  Lord  shall  renew 
their  strength.  They  shall  .  .  .  run,  and  not 
be  weary  ;  and  they  shall  walk,  and  not  faint.' 
I  suppose  the  real  promise  is  for  spiritual,  not 
physical,  strength,  yet  the  supply  in  grand- 
mother's case  seems  true  of  both  soul  and 
body." 

"  Perhaps,"  returned  Mary,  "  because  an 
uplifted  soul  always  does  seem  to  make  the 
body  light.  Don't  you  often  notice  how 
hopeless  people  drag?  There  is  nothing 
this  side  of  death  that  can  make  such  an 
old  saint  faithless  and  gloomy,  and  every- 
thing beyond  death  she  sees  transfigured 
in  glory." 

Loraine  was  silent  a  moment,  then,  re- 
turning to  the  school-topic,  said, 

"  I  wish  one  of  two  things — either  that  they 
could  afford  extra  help  or  that  the  academy 


224  THE  SILENT  MAN'S  LEGACY. 

did  not  begin  so  soon.  I  am  not  of  great  as- 
sistance here,  but  there  are  small  services 
that  I  can  render ;  and  it  has  been  so  good 
to  have  been  of  any  use  in  making  the  house 
orderly  and  seeing  that  the  rest  ate  enough  to 
keep  them  alive.  By  the  way,  Mary,"  cried 
Loraine,  with  sudden  animation,  "  what  a 
beautiful  thing  it  is  to  live  in  a  village  like 
this  when  one  is  in  trouble !  The  first  day, 
as  I  saw  grandmother  go  to  cooking  after 
losing  almost  all  her  night's  rest,  I  could 
have  cried  to  think  that  I  could  not  make 
bread  nor  get  them  a  comfortable  meal ;  but 
since  then  I  have  actually  cried  at  a  revela- 
tion of  neighborliness  such  as  I  never  saw 
in  my  city-life.  A  dozen  times  a  day  it  is 
'  rap-rap '  on  the  kitchen  door,  and  there  is 
this  one  with  hot  soup,  that  one  with  roast 
beef  or  a  child  with  pies  or  cakes.  Jellies  and 
broths  without  end  come  from  neighbors  who 
'  hope  somebody  will  taste  them  if  Mrs.  Pres- 
ton can't.'  The  weekly  washing  was  carried 
across  the  road  before  any  one  but  Johnny 
knew  it,  and  there  are  a  dozen  neighbors 
waiting  to  come  in  the  moment  nurses  not 
of  the  family  will  be  allowed.  It  seems  so 


THE  MASCOT'S  RETURN.  225 

queer  and  lovely,  and  I  think  it  a  phase  of 
life  altogether  beautiful." 

"  Why,  it  is  the  most  natural  thing  in  the 
world,"  laughed  Mary.  "A  few  years  ago  I 
used  to  rail  away  to  mother  about  Hemp- 
stead,  and  say  it  was  just  full  of  gossiping, 
meddlesome  mischief-makers,  and  that  all 
little  towns  were  much  the  same.  She  used 
to  say,  '  Yes,  Mary ;  they  will  tease  and  tat- 
tle and  speculate  on  the  cost  of  your  ruffles, 
by  and  by  will  engage  you  to  the  wrong 
man,  and  maybe  will  say  that  your  front 
hair  is  not  natural ;  but  if  ever  you  fall  into 
great  affliction  in  Hempstead,  you  will  find 
grand  unselfishness  and  long-suffering,  tender 
care/  Father  was  very  sick  once,  and  I  found 
mother  knew  what  she  was  talking  about. 
The  very  woman  who  said  I  was  '  a  conceited 
snip  with  no  good  looks  to  brag  of — she 
would  nurse  father ;  and  one  day  when  Dr. 
Hickox  was  downright  discouraged  she  said, 
'  There  ain't  no  sort  of  use  in  him  a-dyin',  and 
you've  got  to  do  something  extra.  Now, 
try ;'  and  she  proposed  the  oddest  measure, 
that  the  old  doctor  said  afterward  really  may 
have  saved  his  life.  He  always  called  it 

15 


226  THE  SILENT  MAN'S  LEGACY. 

'Sarah  Elkins's  extra.'  But  I  am  hindering 
you.  Good-bye  until  we  meet  as  school- 
marms.  Did  Madge  say  whether  she  would 
like  this  position,  or  has  she  been  too  wor- 
ried to  give  it  any  thought?" 

"She  has  been  too  much  alarmed  to  think 
about  it,"  answered  Loraine.  "  I  told  her 
about  it  one  evening,  and  she  seemed  embar- 
rassed. I  fancied  she  might  not  think  her- 
self fitted  for  the  place,  and  so  I  told  her  that 
she  had  carried  her  studies  with  Mrs.  Allen 
farther  than  any  pupil  goes  here.  It  was  not 
that  of  which  she  was  thinking,  for  she  said 
she  felt  sufficiently  qualified.  Afterward  she 
said  she  wished  that  she  could  take  the  posi- 
tion. She  will  explain  hereafter,  no  doubt, 
what  was  the  objection  or  the  hindrance  she 
saw." 

Mary  stayed  but  a  moment  longer,  and 
Loraine  turned  from  the  gate,  where  they 
had  been  whispering,  back  to  the  solemn 
house. 

There  were  more  days  of  fear  and  trem- 
bling, of  weary  watching  and  prayer — two 
days  when  all  hope  seemed  vain ;  then,  so 
gradually  that  they  could  scarcely  see  the 


THE  MASCOT'S  RETURN.  227 

change  from  one  day  to  another,  Mrs.  Pres- 
ton did  begin  to  get  better.  The  last  week 
in  September,  though  she  could  not  lift  her 
head  from  the  pillow,  Dr.  Hickox  declared 
her  to  be  "  out  of  danger. " 

One  golden  afternoon,  when  all  the  mel- 
low warmth  of  summer  seemed  lingering  in 
the  air  and  all  he  gay  tints  of  autumn  had 
begun  to  glow  on  tree  and  shrub,  Loraine 
came  home  from .  her  school-duties  to  find 
Ruth  resting  in  an  easy-chair  by  the  open 
door. 

"  It  is  delightful  to  see  you  sitting  still," 
said  Loraine,  dropping  into  her  lap  a  cluster 
of  red  leaves. 

"  Yes ;  I  have  been  feeling  myself  rest  in 
mind  and  body,  and  after  such  a  strain  on 
both  that  sensation  is  delightful.  Mother  is 
doing  beautifully,  sleeping  like  a  baby — 
Mrs.  Parker  is  watching  her — and  grand- 
mother too  is  asleep.  Mrs.  Parker  sent 
every  one  of  us  'about  our  business/  and 
elaborately  explained  that  the  business  was 
sleeping  or  sitting  still.  Johnny  is  the  only 
one  who  has  disobeyed ;  he  is  at  work  in  the 
kitchen.  He  tries  so  hard  to  help  that  I 


228  THE  SILENT  MAN'S  LEGACY. 

have  not  the  heart  to  tell  him  how  absurd 
his  proceedings  are." 

"  Yes,"  said  Loraine ;  "  the  only  time 
lately  I  have  heard  Madge  laugh  like  her 
old  self  was  when  she  went  up  stairs  and 
found  Johnny  had  done  her  room-work. 
He  made  her  bed  as  if  he  never  had  slept 
in  one  in  his  life — everything  laboriously 
askew — had  dusted  with  a  table-spread,  and 
had  arranged  her  toilet-table  too  comically 
to  describe." 

"  Hush !  he  is  coming,"  laughed  Ruth  as 
Johnny  came  suddenly  around  the  house 
instead  of  through  it,  mindful  of  his  noisy 
heels. 

"Kitchen  fire's  made,"  he  remarked,  "and 
I  bet  I  could  get  supper  slick  as  a  pin  if 
you'd  only  let  me  try." 

A  long  mark  of  soot  adorned  his  counte- 
nance, and  at  any  other  time  his  soiled  cuffs 
would  have  distressed  Ruth,  who  now  only 
said, 

"  You  are  a  dear  good  boy,  Johnny,  but 
Madge  and  I  will  get  supper  when  it  is 
time." 

Johnny  strolled  down  to  the  gate  chew- 


THE  MASCOT'S  RETURN.  229 

ing  a  twig  and  feeling  only  half  appreciated. 
He  stood  there  a  while,  and  then  seemed  to 
discover  far  down  the  hill  something  that 
greatly  excited  him.  He  turned  to  the 
girls,  was  about  to  give  a  shout,  thought  of 
his  mother,  and,  merely  raising  both  arms, 
rushed  away  at  a  headlong  pace. 

"  What  is  that  red  thing  coming  ?"  asked 
Loraine,  who  was  near-sighted. 

"  '  Red  thing '  ?  Where  ?"  began  Ruth,  and 
then,  rising,  laughed  and  choked  and  actually 
cried  hysterically  at  the  sight  of  Johnny 
with  his  arms  flung  around  a  woman  in  a 
bright-red  calico  who  had  dropped  bag  and 
baggage  to  return  the  embrace  so  enthusias- 
tically bestowed. 

"  Oh,  Abby !  Abby  has  come  home !" 
and  away  went  Ruth  to  meet  her. 

At  heart  Loraine  was  a  little  bit  of  an  aris- 
tocrat, and  she  secretly  wondered  at  the  place 
this  unknown  Abby  seemed  to  hold  in  a 
family  so  refined  as  were  the  Prestons.  To 
care  for,  protect  and  be  kind  to  a  servant 
was  right,  but  to  love  one  had  never  been  her 
experience.  To  be  sure,  they  said  Abby  was 
"  American-born  "  and  had  always  been  in 


230  THE  SILENT  MAN'S  LEGACY. 

the  family,  which  probably  accounted  for 
her  influence. 

Feeling  no  particular  desire  to  see  Abby 
on  the  instant  of  her  arrival,  Loraine  retired 
to  her  own  room ;  during  the  next  hour  she 
was  not  so  absorbed  in  her  book  and  her 
needlework  that  she  failed  to  detect  a  sort  of 
subdued  excitement  below  stairs — the  Pro- 
fessor's voice  in  hearty  welcome,  grandmoth- 
er speaking  faster  than  usual,  a  new  stir  of 
cheerfulness  and  muffled  laughter  every  now 
and  then  from  Ruth  and  Johnny. 

It  was  three  days  before  Loraine  saw 
Abby,  for  very  likely  Abby  herself  had  no 
desire  to  meet  the  critical  eye  of  the  stranger 
within  the  gates.  At  about  the  end  of  that 
time  Loraine  said  to  Madge, 

"  I  must  see  this  Abby,  who  is  like  noth- 
ing so  much  as  the  Corliss  engine,  for  every 
bit  of  household  machinery  seems  to  get 
power  from  her." 

"  Yes,  indeed !  Only  three  days  home, 
and  every  disordered  nook  and  corner  is  as  it 
should  be,  every  meal  is  appetizing  once  more, 
grandmother's  cares  are  all  removed  and 
father  is  taken  care  of  as  if  he  were  a  small 


THE  MASCOT'S  RETURN.  231 

meek  boy,  to  say  nothing  of  the  life  she 
seems  to  put  into  mother  every  time  she 
goes  in  there  and  makes  her  smile.  But 
she  is  not  anxious  to  see  you,"  laughed 
Madge. 

"Why?" 

"  She  watched  you  down  the  hill  this 
morning,  and  she  says  that  you  are  too 
stylish.  Her  favorite  red  gown  is  stained 
and  travel-worn,  though  red  as  ever;  you 
will  not  see  her  until  a  certain  purple  one 
is  finished." 

It  happened,  however,  the  next  day  that 
Loraine  was  ill  with  a  severe  cold  and  a 
headache.  It  was  Saturday,  so  that,  greatly 
to  her  relief,  she  had  no  school-duties,  and 
she  sent  Johnny  to  the  drug-store  for  a 
simple  remedy  which  she  fancied  might 
help  her.  Before  he  returned  Abby  appeared 
and  took  charge  of  Loraine  in  a  masterful 
yet  gentle  fashion  there  was  no  resisting. 
After  one  look  into  her  beaming  full-moon 
face  Loraine  did  not  want  to  resist,  but  let 
herself  be  wrapped  up  on  a  sofa  and  fussed 
over  until  she  dozed  off  to  sleep  like  an 
exceedingly  comfortable  baby,  and  she  awoke 


232  THE  SILENT  MAN'S  LEGACY. 

without  the  headache.  Abby  and  she  were 
excellent  friends  from  that  time,  and  Loraine 
enjoyed  nothing  more  than  to  draw  Abby 
out  and  hear  her  impressions  of  the  people 
and  the  places  she  had  seen.  For  at  least 
a  week  after  Abby's  home-coming  she  was 
quite  too  busy,  between  Mrs.  Preston's  room 
and  the  kitchen,  to  talk  any  more  than  was 


CHAPTER  XII. 

THE  LEGACY. 

"  It  is  as  ordinary  as  for  the  light  to  shine  for  God  to  make 
black  and  dismal  dispensations  usher  in  bright  and  pleasing." — 
BUNT  AH. 

IT  was  a  cold,  blustering  day.  The  wind 
tore  about  the  yellow  house  as  if  it  meant 
to  wrench  away  every  shutter ;  the  air  was 
full  of  flying  leaves,  and  heavy  clouds  hung 
low,  making  twilight  early  in  the  afternoon. 
But  within-doors  it  was  the  brightest  day 
for  many  weeks,  because  Mrs.  Preston  was 
for  the  first  time  able  to  come  into  the  parlor 
and  sit  by  the  roaring  fire  that  Johnny  had 
spent  much  energy  in  building.  Grand- 
mother and  Ruth  had  their  sewing,  but  the 
latter  was  telling  them  a  funny  story  of 
Loraine's  school-experiences,  and  the  Pro- 
fessor put  down  his  newspaper  to  listen.  A 
moment  after,  he  glanced  at  Madge,  who  was 


234  THE  STLENT  MAN'S  LEGACY, 

the  only  silent  one  among  them,  and  re- 
marked, 

"  By  the  way,  little  girls,  we  must  come  to 
a  conclusion  soon  in  regard  to  which  one  of 
you  is  to  be  the  teacher.  It  is  not  fair  to 
keep  Mary  Parker  holding  the  fort  a  mo- 
ment after  you  are  rested  enough  to  relieve 
her." 

Ruth  looked  up  nervously,  yet  was  evi- 
dently of  her  father's  mind  that  the  pres- 
ent would  be  a  good  time  to  decide  the  ques- 
tion ;  but  when  Madge  gave  a  half-appealing 
glance  at  her  mother,  the  latter  instinctively 
felt  that  it  might  be  better  to  talk  with 
each  girl  alone. 

"  Yes,"  she  said,  "  we  must  talk  that  over, 
but  perhaps  the  discussion  might  prove  a 
little  too  much  for  my  weak  brain  to-day. 
I  think  we  will  let  Madge  tell  us  instead 
something  about  her  summer;  I  have  not 
heard  anything,  you  know,  since  she  came 
home. — It  was  a  pity  to  cut  your  visit  short 
so  suddenly,  Madge." 

"  No,  indeed,  mother ;  so  far  as  I  was  con- 
cerned, I  had  seen  and  enjoyed  quite  enough 
for  one  season." 


THE  LEGACY.  235 

"  Well,  tell  us  about  it,  dear." 

Madge  roused  herself  from  the  listless- 
ness  which  the  family  attributed  to  the  re- 
cent overtaxing  of  mind  and  body  during 
her  mother's  illness,  and  gave  them  a  high- 
ly-entertaining account  of  much  she  herself 
had  found  amusing.  Grandmother  heard 
with  innocent  surprise  of  life  at  a  monster 
hotel ;  Mrs.  Preston  tried  to  banish  certain 
haunting  thoughts  of  expenses  incurred  by 
her  illness,  of  a  winter  at  the  door  and  a 
larder  to  be  replenished — how  ?  The  Profes- 
sor, who  had  almost  learned  his  hard  lesson 
(if  he  had  like  thoughts),  could,  every  time 
he  looked  at  her  pale  face  and  almost  trans- 
parent hand,  feel  thankfulness  conquering 
foreboding.  God,  who  had  eased  her,  would 
do  for  them  all  in  his  own  good  time. 

Madge  ended  her  fun,  and  a  quiet  had 
fallen  while  they  all  listened  to  the  roaring 
wind  and  watched  the  dancing  flame  on  the 
hearth. 

"  It  is  only  five  o'clock,"  exclaimed  Abby, 
appearing  in  their  midst  with  a  brilliant  lamp, 
"  but  I  thought  you  couldn't  see  to  sew  any 
longer  by  daylight." 


236  THE  SILENT  MAN'S  LEGACY. 

"And  you  knew  I  should  waste  valuable 
time  if  I  had  a  fire  to  watch,"  laughed 
Ruth. 

"  Oh,  the  lazier  you  can  be,  the  better,  till 
you  get  some  more  flesh  on  your  bones,"  re- 
turned Abby,  arranging  the  lamp  where  its 
light  could  not  hurt  Mrs.  Preston's  eyes. 
Then,  turning  to  the  Professor,  she  said, 
"Any  time  you  get  around  to  it  I'll  tell  you 
some  things  that  Mr.  French  said  to  men- 
tion to  you,  though  he  said  you'd  get  the 
hull  thing  in  the  papers  sent." 

"  '  Mr.  French  '  ?"  repeated  the  Professor, 
questioningly. 

"  Why,  the  Denver  lawyer — your  broth- 
er's friend  I  wrote  you  about.  I  didn't  pes- 
ter you  with  the  particulars  when  I  first  got 
here,  you  all  being  in  such  trouble ;  but  he's 
wrote  it  all  out,  I  reckon,  in  the  little  tin 
box.  You'd  a-laughed  to  hear  him  a-tryin' 
without  reg'larly  insulting  me  to  sort  of 
insinuate  the  information  into  me  that  if  I 
stole  that  tin  box  it  wouldn't  do  me  any 
good  and  they  could  ketch  me  at  it." 

Abby  looked  around,  expecting  a  response, 
but  both  the  Professor  and  his  wife  seemed 


THE  LEGACY.  237 

struggling  to  understand  some  unthought-of 
condition  of  things. 

When  Abby  went  out,  Mrs.  Preston  ex- 
claimed in  a  voice  so  nervously  tremulous 
that  it  frightened  Ruth, 

"  Philip,  your  brother  was  never  depend- 
ent on  anybody ;  he  may  have  had  more 
than  enough  for  his  life — an  insurance  or 
something.  I  have  thought  sometimes  he 
might  have  had." 

"  It  is  possible  that  there  may  be  some- 
thing coming  to  us,"  Mr.  Preston  interrupt- 
ed, hastily.  UA  little  would  be  such  a  bless- 
ing— a  hundred  or  two  dollars.  Abby 
brought  me  a  tin  box,  but  the  very  morning 
that  I  shut  it  into  my  drawer  Dr.  Hickox 
seemed  to  lose  his  courage  about  you,  and  I 
gave  nothing  else  a  thought.  Any  way,  I 
supposed — what  may  be  the  case — that  it 
contained  merely  papers  of  worth  only  as 
belonging  to  Henry.  I  will  go  and  see." 
He  rose,  and,  crossing  the  hall,  shut  him- 
self into  his  study. 

Grandmother,  made  drowsy  by  the  fire, 
was  quietly  sleeping  in  her  chair.  Ruth 
exclaimed, 


238  THE  SILENT  MAN'S  LEGACY. 

"  Where  is  Loraine  ?  She  must  have 
come  from  school  long  ago." 

"  Yes,  but  perhaps  she  thought  we  were 
having  a  family  reunion  and  she  would  not 
intrude,"  said  Madge. 

"  That  is  it.  Loraine  has?  the  most  deli- 
cacy of  any  girl  I  know.  But  she  ought  to 
know  that  we  have  adopted  her." 

"  Well,  let  us  go  and  tell  her  so,"  sug- 
gested Madge  ;  and  the  two  went  clambering 
up  the  old-fashioned  stairs,  Ruth  saying, 

"  When  our  ship  comes  in,  let  us  tear  out 
these  steep  stairs  and  have  the  kind  that 
turns  with  a  landing,  like  that  at  the  Parkers'. 
There  is  a  lovely  window  with  a-  wide  seat 
and  a  place  for  a  desk  and  books." 

The  Professor  did  not  come  back.  After 
about  a  quarter  of  an  hour  Mrs.  Preston 
heard  him  suddenly  drop  something  like  a 
heavy  book  and  rise  to  his  feet ;  then  every- 
thing was  quiet  again.  Her  illness  had  left 
her  so  very  weak  that  this  suspense  made 
her  quite  nervous.  She  was  tempted  to 
send  Johnny  after  her  husband ;  then  she 
reasoned  that  if  there  was  anything  to  tell 
he  would  soon  return  :  his  not  coming  back 


The  Discovery  of  the  Legacy.  Page  23!». 


THE  LEGACY.  239 

was  probably  proof  that  his  faint  hope  had 
gone  out  in  disappointment.  After  five 
minutes  more,  chiding  herself  for  what 
seemed  really  childish  impatience,  she  re- 
solved to  go  and  see  for  herself.  She 
wrapped  closer  the  warm  shawl  and  felt 
almost  naughty  as  she  stole  out,  careful  not 
to  awake  the  solicitous  old  lady,  who  would 
have  forbidden  the  exertion. 

The  hall  was  warm,  but  the  blast  that 
swept  past  the  front  door  reminded  Mrs. 
Preston  of  how  long  it  was  since  that  love- 
ly morning  when  she  had  last  entered  her 
husband's  study,  to  go  out  of  it  very  sad 
and  burdened.  The  Professor's  lamp  was 
burning  brightly,  but  he  was  not  at  his 
table,  where  in  a  litter  of  papers  was  the 
little  tin  box.  Mrs.  Preston  went  a  few 
steps  beyond  the  door,  that  closed  behind 
her,  and  in  so  doing  startled  her  husband 
from  his  knees.  He  sprang  up  suddenly, 
took  his  wife  in  his  arms  and  exclaimed, 

"  How  much  good  news  can  you  bear  ?" 

"  All  you  have  to  tell." 

All  the  same,  Mrs.  Preston  trembled 
already,  and,  warned  in  time  not  to  be  too 


240  THE  SILENT  MAN'S  LEGACY. 

abrupt,  the  Professor  put  her  gently  down 
in  the  sofa-corner  and,  trying  to  calm  him- 
self, said, 

"  Henry  was  better  off  than  we  had  any 
idea.  He  has  left  us  plenty  for  present 
necessities." 

"  Oh,  I  told  you,  Philip,  that  God  would 
not  forsake  us,  but  I  never  thought  of  help 
coming  by  your  poor  brother's  death.  I 
wonder  now  that  I  did  not  think  he  might 
have  more  means  than  he  talked  of,  for  he 
was  so  reserved  about  everything.  I  am 
glad  I  never  knew  it ;  I  might  have  calcu- 
lated on  his  dying:  poor  human  nature  is 
so  weak!  Is  it  really  enough  to  last  all 
winter,  Philip  ?" 

Mr.  Preston  kissed  his  wife,  laughing  like 
a  boy  as  he  asked, 

"  Could  you  believe  it  if  I  said  there  was 
enough  for  next  summer  too  ?" 

"  Tell  me  the  whole  thing  plainly." 

The  Professor  went  back  to  the  table, 
saying, 

"I  cannot  tell  you  yet  in  detail,  for  I 
have  only  glanced  over  each  paper  and  read 
the  lawyer's  communication.  This  much  is 


THE  LEGACY.  241 

clear:  for  the  last  fifteen  years  Henry  had 
an  income  of  about  one  thousand  a  year, 
and  now  that  comes  to  us." 

"And  we  have  never  had  over  eight  hun- 
dred," cried  Mrs.  Preston,  eagerly,  "and 
managed  nicely  on  that." 

"About  five  years  ago  Henry  made  cer- 
tain new  investments.  One  of  these  proved 
unwise,  and  he  lost;  the  others  succeeded 
much  beyond  his  expectations.  Mr.  French 
tells  me  that  Henry  went  out  West  this  last 
time,  not  for  his  health,  but  to  take  this 
property  recently  made  out  of  every  enter- 
prise that  was  in  the  slightest  degree  haz- 
ardous, and  to  see  it  put  where,  humanly 
speaking,  there  was  no  chance  of  its  being 
lost.  The  principal  is  secured  to  our  chil- 
dren— Henry  knew  I  am  no  financier — but 
the  interest  amounts  to  another  thousand,  and, 
over  and  above  that,  Grandmother  Grey  has 
a  gift  of  five  hundred  dollars,  and  Abby  an- 
other five  hundred." 

Mrs.  Preston  began  to  cry  so  hysterically 
that  the  Professor  became  greatly  alarmed 
and  exclaimed  in  terror, 

"  Now  I  have  killed  you  with  all  this  ex- 

16 


242  THE  SILENT  MAN'S  LEGACY. 

citement !  The  doctor  said  a  relapse  would 
be  dreadful." 

"No,  no!"  she  laughed,  almost  as  hys- 
terically ;  "joy  never  kills  anybody.  But  I 
will  go  and  get  a  cup  of  tea,  for — " 

"  No ;  you  will  lie  still  on  this  sofa,  and 
Abby  will  bring  it  to  you.  And  I  will  not 
let  those  chattering  girls — those  heiresses  of 
ours — hear  anything  of  this  to-night." 

The  Professor  was  not  an  old  man,  and  all 
at  once  he  seemed  twenty  years  younger  for 
his  release  from  the  crushing  burden  that 
had  slipped  off  his  shoulders.  Never  in  all 
her  married  life  had  anything  given  Mrs. 
Preston  more  intense  happiness  than  this 
night  to  hear  the  thrill  of  thankful  joy  in 
every  word  he  uttered,  to  see  the  light  in 
his  eyes  and  the  elasticity  of  his  step.  He 
did  not  love  money ;  he  was  truly  no 
"  financier,"  as  he  said.  He  was  unspeakably 
glad  for  those  dearest  to  him,  not  for  any 
selfish  reason. 

Nobody  else  was  told  that  night,  but  there 
was  an  electric  influence  in  the  air  that 
caused  both  Ruth  and  Madge  to  suspect  the 
truth,  though  only,  like  their  mother,  to 


THE  LEGACY.  243 

the  extent  of  "  a  hundred  or  two."  When 
at  family  prayers  the  Professor  read  a  psalm 
of  thanksgiving  in  a  voice  that  would  not 
go  evenly,  Loraine  was  certain  the  clouds 
over  him  had  parted,  and  that  there  was 
blue  sky  with  clear  shining. 

It  would  be  an  utter  impossibility  to  de- 
scribe the  content  and  the  gratitude  that 
reigned  in  the  house  after  each  inmate  knew 
what  had  come  to  pass.  A  million  would 
hardly  have  seemed  larger  to  grandmother 
than  did  this  unexpected  gift.  She  was 
every  bit  as  full  of  fancies  as  were  the  girls, 
only  hers  were  after  this  fashion : 

"  Whenever  the  missionary  society  sends 
a  box  to  the  West  now,  I  can  put  in  a  beauti- 
ful set  of  warm  blankets,  and  every  holiday 
I  can  send  turkeys  to  the  church  poor  and 
always  have  something  for  people  in  need. 
Yes,  and  I  can  pay  for  a  Bible- reader  in  In- 
dia. Bless  the  Lord,  O  my  soul,  and  all 
that  is  within  me  bless  his  holy  name. !" 

The  girls  had  always  supposed  their 
mother  blind  to  faded  carpets  and  rickety 
chairs,  perfectly  satisfied  with  home  as  it  had 


244  THE  SILENT  MAN'S  LEGACY. 

been.  Now,  when  they  settled  her  into  an 
easy-chair  and  brought  their  own  chairs 
close  to  her  for  a  talk,  they  found  her  just 
as  enthusiastic  as  themselves  about  improve- 
ments, and  ten  times  as  practical  in  her  ideas. 
Indeed,  Ruth  soon  suspected  that  often  in 
the  past  this  mother  must  silently  have  con- 
sidered all  these  things  and  patiently  given 
them  up.  She  had  surprisingly  clear  plans 
for  adding  to  and  repairing  every  article 
that  was  worth  repair  in  the  house,  and  thus 
making  go  much  farther  what  they  could 
spend  for  new  things. 

"  We  will  begin  no  important  changes 
until  spring,"  she  said  one  day  during  a  de- 
bate, "  but  in  the  mean  time  we  can  replenish 
our  linen-closet.  Then,  as  we  sit  together 
making  tablecloths,  napkins,  sheets  and 
pillow-cases,  we  will  decide  on  every  curtain, 
carpet  and  cushion." 

"Yes,  and  paint  the  house  outside  and 
inside,  and  paper  and —  "  began  Madge ;  but 
Mrs.  Preston  laughingly  suggested  : 

"Two  thousand  a  year  is  a  wonderful 
amount  for  us,  but  it  will  not  do  everything 
at  once,  you  must  remember." 


THE  LEGACY.  245 

"  Well,  I  know  you  can  make  it  do  every- 
thing that  we  ought  to  want  done,"  returned 
Ruth. 

"  I  hope  so.  At  any  rate,  we  can  brighten 
and  beautify  the  old  home,  in  which  we  have 
been  very,  very  happy,  and  where  God  has 
been  pleased  to  leave  us  still  a  united  family. 
A  home  is  not  quite  the  same  after  a  dear  one 
has  gone  out  of  it :  we  had  an  idea  of  what 
a  difference  it  would  make  when  we  feared  a 
few  .years  ago  that  Ruth  had  gone  from  us 
never  to  return  ;  and  if  I — " 

The  look  Mrs.  Preston  turned  on  them 
filled  all  their  eyes  with  tears.  Madge  could 
not  control  hers,  and  Ruth,  wondering  a 
little,  turned  the  conversation  back  to  their 
plans  by  exclaiming  brightly, 

"  When  we  decide  which  one  is  to  teach — 
and  we  must  decide  this  week,  you  know — 
I  have  a  proposal  to  make ;  only  let  it  be  a 
secret  with  us  three.  You  know  how  dingy 
the  study  is.  Well,  wouldn't  it  be  nice  for 
Madge  and  me  to  have  the  .privilege  of  mak- 
ing that  cozy  and  suitable  again  for  father  ? 
As  much  as  possible  of  the  first  year's  salary 
would  do  a  great  deal  toward  paper,  paint,  a 


246  THE  SILENT  MAN'S  LEGACY. 

new  bookcase  and  a  big  rug.  We  would  get 
the  floor  stained  and  have  the  lounge  stuffed 
and  covered." 

Ruth,  stopping  for  breath,  looked  to  see 
an  immediate  answer  in  her  sister's  face,  but 
to  her  surprise  Madge  showed  little  anima- 
tion besides  a  reply  to  the  effect  that  the 
study  did  seem  rather  dilapidated.  Soon 
after,  she  went  away  for  some  sewing-mate- 
rial, and  did  not  return. 

"  I  am  afraid  Madge  did  too  much  while 
I  was  ill ;  she  does  not  seem  like  herself." 

"  I  don't  know.  I  confess,  mother,  that  I 
hoped  she  would  want  to  teach  ;  but  if  she 
does  not,  we  will  not  urge  it.  I  have  an  idea 
she  is  dreading  that." 

"Of  course  there  is  not  the  necessity 
existing  now  that  there  was  at  the  time  this 
offer  of  a  place  was  made ;  and  if  any  more 
needy  person  stood  ready  to  take  the  posi- 
tion, it  might  be  best  for  her  to  withdraw. 
But  your  father  says  that  under  present  cir- 
cumstances it  would  not  be  showing  proper 
gratitude  to  Loraine  or  due  appreciation  of 
Mr.  Parker's  efforts.  Moreover,  he  thinks 
that  Madge  would  get  good,  morally  and  in- 


THE  LEGACY.  247 

tellectually,  from  the  discipline  of  teaching, 
while  the  responsibility  might  develop  in  her 
more  helpfulness  toward  others.  If  we  had 
come  into  large  wealth,  neither  your  father 
nor  I  would  think  that  a  reason  why  our 
children  should  not  be  workers  and  help- 
ers in  a  world  so  full  of  ignorance  and  of 
trouble." 

"  That  is  probably  as  true  of  me  as  it  is 
of  Madge.  I  don't  want  to  go  among  all 
those  great  girls — they  really  frighten  me — 
but  I  am  selfish  to  put  it  off  on  Madge." 

"  You  don't  put  any  terror  of  big  girls  on 
her,  dear,"  laughed  Mrs.  Preston,  smoothing 
Ruth's  silky  hair,  "  and  you  are  better 
adapted  to  other  duties.  I  think  grand- 
mother needs  you  at  home." 

"  I  wonder  if  Loraine  does  not  regret  now 
that  she  accepted  the  position  ?"  said  Ruth, 
after  a  pause.  "  I  feel  sure  she  took  it  only 
to  help  us." 

"  I  sincerely  hope  that  she  is  not  sorry. 
One  thing  we  can  do,  and  that  is  assure  her 
that  we  appreciate  her  staunch  friendship." 

This  suggestion  about  Loraine  troubled 
Mrs.  Preston,  however,  and  that  evening, 


248  THE  SILENT  MAN'S  LEGACY. 

finding  herself  alone  witli  the  young  teacher, 
she  resolved  to  get  at  the  entire  truth.  Lo- 
raine  was  quick-witted  enough  to  detect 
her  motive,  and  with  a  frank  laugh  ex- 
claimed, 

"Oh,  I  see!  You  fancy  that  I  am  a 
martyr.  But  I  can't  pose  in  that  attitude 
long  enough  for  even  an  instantaneous  pho- 
tograph. I  never  was  so  interested  and 
happy  in  my  life.  I  really  believe  that  I 
have  a  going-to-be-developed  genius  for 
teaching.  I  like  and  understand  the  girls  ; 
I  seem  to  know  how  to  wake  them  up  men- 
tally and  not  repel  them  personally.  I  gave 
them  to-day  in  the  class  of  moral  science 
a  talk  that  grew  out  of  the  lesson  on  con- 
science, and  we  were  so  interested  that  we 
ran  over  the  hour  and  were  surprised  by 
Mr.  Sedgewick's  coming  to  tell  us  school 
was  out.  You  see  the  rapid  growth  of  self- 
esteem  in  me,  don't  you?  No  doubt  by 
another  month  I  can  give  the  Professor 
himself  valuable  instruction  about  instruc- 
tion itself." 

"I  see  in  you  what  I  admire  and  love," 
said  Mrs.  Preston,  impulsively,  "  and  I  am 


THE  LEGACY.  249 

not  jealous  when  the  Professor  says,  as 
yesterday,  that  his  '  third  daughter  has  by 
far  the  most  logical  mind.' " 

The  talk  was   interrupted  at   this   point, 
and  Loraine  went  singing  to  her  room. 


CHAPTEK    XIII. 

MA  DOE   OPENS   HER   HEART. 

"Ofttimes  one  vehemently  struggleth  for  somewhat  he  desir- 
eth ;  and  when  he  hath  arrived  at  it,  he  beginneth  to  be  of  an- 
other mind."— THOMAS  i  KEMPIS. 

I  BELIEVE  I  know  just  exactly  what 
your  uncle  Henry  gave  me  that  five 
hundred  dollars  for,"  exclaimed  Abby,  one 
evening,  after  sitting  long  in  silent  meditation. 
She  was  speaking  to  Ruth,  who  was  helping 
Loraine  draw  a  map  that  was  spread  on  the 
long  table. 

"  Everybody  knows  why  he  did  it,  Abby," 
Ruth  returned.  "  Uncle  Henry  always 
liked  you  and  knew  how  much  you  were 
constantly  doing  for  his  comfort." 

"  Oh,  law,  Ruth !  I  couldn't  in  decency 
have  done  no  less  for  the  poor  lonely  creeter. 
No ;  he  heard  me  a-telling  once  how  I  hank- 
ered after  an  orphan." 

"  A — what  ?"  asked  Loraine,  in  surprise. 

250 


MADGE  OPENS  HER  HEART.  251 

Mrs.  Preston  just  then  called  Ruth  to  do 
something  for  her,  and  Abby  continued  : 

"  I'll  tell  you ;  Ruth  knows  what  I  mean. 
I  always  did  wish  that  I  could  be  rich 
enough  to  find  a  Nankeen  orphan  such  as  I 
was — or  maybe  it  would  be  a  Blue- Jean 
one — and  make  it  as  happy  as  Mrs.  Preston 
made  me.  You  see,  when  I  was  a  little  girl, 
I  had  a  mother  and  a  home,  and  never 
thought  anything  about  myself  until  there 
came  a  time  of  poverty,  sickness  and  trouble 
that  I  remember  like  a  dream.  I  waked  up 
out  of  it  in  an  orphan  asylum.  It  must 
have  been  a  very  nice  asylum,  too,  as  I  rea- 
son over  it  now — sweet,  clean  rooms,  good 
food,  pleasant  grounds  to  play  in,  and  all  of 
us  going  to  church  every  Sunday.  But  I 
wasn't  only  seven  years  old,  and  I  was  queer. 
I  presume  I  was  so  awful  homely  that  no- 
body took  to  me — big  rickety  head,  green 
eyes,  white  hair  and  a  nose  that  got  a-growing 
and  could  not  stop.  That  is  the  sort  of  or- 
phan I  shall  look  out  for — one  nobody  ever 
would  think  of  adopting  for  her  good  looks. 
It  was  in  Hampton,  about  seventy  miles 
from  here,  you  know,  and  the  Prestons  lived 


252  THE  SILENT  MAN'S  LEGACY. 

next  door — that  is,  the  Professor  and  his 
wife :  the  girls  weren't  born.  I  wasn't  old 
enough  to  know  that  it  was  ungrateful  in  me 
to  be  homesick,  though  I  don't  yet  believe 
the  Lord  thinks  it  is  the  best  way  to  care  for 
little  children  in  droves,  being  fed,  dressed, 
put  to  bed  by  dozens  and  sort  of  loved  and 
prayed  for  by  wholesale,  as  you  might  say. 
It  is  better  than  letting  them  suffer  individ- 
ually, but  I  reckon  lots  of  'em  long  as  I  did 
to  be —  Well,  sort  of  one  of  a  kind  some- 
where with  folks  all  to  itself.  I  hated  to  see 
seventy-eight  more  of  me  dressed  in  nan- 
keen, and  seventy-eight  bowls  of  bread  and 
milk.  I  loosened  a  slat  in  the  Preston  fence 
and  used  to  peep  in  when  they  had  the  win- 
dow open.  Mrs.  Preston  wore  a  pink  mus- 
lin, and  their  little  pretty  rooms  and  small 
round  supper-table  were  so  lovely!  She 
used  to  have  a  little  wineglass  of  flowers 
in  the  middle,  and  one  morning  I  found 
a  daffodil  in  the  grass  of  the  asylum  yard. 
I  put  it  in  a  green  bottle  of  water,  and 
was  going  to  set  it  by  my  plate  on  the 
dinner-table.  Then  I  remember  thinking 
that  all  the  other  seventy-eight  children 


MADGE  OPENS  HER  HEART.  253 

without  any  green  bottle  and  daffodil  would 
feel  bad  to  see  mine,  and,  poor  little  goose  as 
I  was,  I  concluded  it  would  be  a  beautiful 
present  for  Mrs.  Preston.  I  crawled  through 
the  fence  and  took  it  to  her.  She  asked  me 
all  sorts  of  questions,  and  she  laughed  like 
everything ;  she  says  she  cried,  but  I  didn't 
know  it.  She  called  the  Professor  to  see  me, 
and  he  says  I  gave  myself  away ;  any  way, 
they  took  me  in,  and  I  never  have  gone  out, 
and  never  will,  God  willing,  while  there  is  a 
Preston  left  to  cling  to.  But  how  I  do  ram- 
ble off!  What  I  am  going  to  get  at  is  this  : 
I  can't  adopt  an  orphan  right  out,  but  I 
mean  to  find  one  in  some  asylum  and  make 
her  feel  that  she  has  got  a  partic'lar  person 
interested  in  her.  I'll  write  to  her,  and,  so 
far  as  rules  will  allow,  I'll  do  for  her  in  the 
way  of  books  and  toys,  and  try,  too,  not 
to  have  the  others  made  discontented." 

"  How  can  you  manage  that  ?"  asked  Lo- 
raine,  much  interested. 

"  I  must.  If  I  can't  do  no  other  way,  I 
could  give  any  girl  of  her  age  something 
similar,  or  a  little  treat.  I  haven't  thought 
it  out,  and  of  course  there  is  a  best  way ;  but 


254  THE  SILENT  MAN'S  LEGACY. 

what  that  five  hundred  dollars  will  do  is  to 
make  some  lonesome  little  body  happier  than 
she  was  before.  I  haven't  any  use  for  such 
quantities  of  money — wages  a-rolling  up  year 
after  year.  I  don't  know  as  I  am  set  on  its 
being  an  asylum-child,  either ;  only  I  know 
the  heart  of  one,  for  I  have  been  there.  It 
is  awful  to  be  nobody  in  partic'lar  and  have 
nobody  in  partic'lar  to  love  you." 

"  There  are  a  great  many  persons  like  that 
in  the  world  who  are  no  longer  children — 
not  in  an  asylum,  nor  poor  even." 

"  Then  they  hain't  no  call  to  be  lonesome, 
and  selfishness,  maybe,  is  what  ails  them.  If 
they  would  take  right  hold  helping  some- 
body— say  the  next  one  to  them — they'd  be 
loved  before  they  knew  it,  and,  better  yet, 
find  no  end  of  folks  to  love  and  do  for." 

"  That  is  the  true  philosophy  of  Christian 
living,  Abby,  but  it  took  me  until  a  few 
months  ago  to  find  it  out." 

"  The  Lord  Jesus  Christ  could  have  told 
you  any  time  you  wanted  to  know." 

"  I  found  it  out  by  finding  him.  I  trod  a 
long  weary  way  first." 

"I'll  warrant   you  did,"  said  Abby,  em- 


MADGE  OPENS  HER  HEART.  255 

phatically.  "  But  there  is  this  good  for 
groping  around  after  help  and  peace:  you 
know  it  when  you  find  it,  and  you  can  reach 
out  a  strong  hand  to  fainting  pilgrims,  as 
grandmother  calls  them.  When  I  was  out 
in  them  mines,  I  saw  one  or  two  people  in 
trouble  that  there  was  no  earthly  help  for, 
and  I  tell  you,  Miss  Faye,  I  just  got  hold  of 
the  sense  of  that  verse :  '  That  we  may  be 
able  to  comfort  them  that  are  in  any  trouble 
by  the  comfort  wherewith  we  ourselves  are 
comforted  of  God.'  I  used  to  tell  them  I 
wasn't  nobody  nor  nothing,  as  they  could  see, 
but  I  had  an  Elder  Brother  who  was  '  mighty 
to  save  even  to  the  uttermost ;'  and  I  never 
found  one  who  didn't  want  to  hear  about 
him." 

Abby's  plain  face  was  all  aglow  with  hap- 
piness and  her  voice  tremulous  with  feeling. 
Loraine — the  elegant,  accomplished  girl — 
did  not  see  her  then  as  the  homely,  illiterate 
handmaid :  fairer,  finer  and  wiser  as  she  her- 
self was,  her  soul  had  gone  down  on  its 
knees,  quite  melted  into  reverence  before 
this  glimpse  into  a  life  so  unconsciously  re- 
vealed. 


256  THE  SILENT  MAN'S  LEGACY. 

"Abby,"  she  said  just  as  they  heard  Ruth 
returning,  "  I  am  an  orphan  also,  and  I  have 
belonged  to  no  one  in  particular ;  I  want 
hereafter  to  belong  to  every  one  whom  I  can 
help  by  being  helped  or  can  comfort  by  the 
comfort  which  you  will  tell  of.  If  I  keep 
praying,  will  I  learn  the  way?" 

"  Jesus  Christ  is  the  Way ;  learn  all  you 
can  from  him,  and  you  can't  begin  to  tell  all 
you  will  have  to  tell." 

The  two  sisters  were  together  in  Madge's 
room,  where  Ruth  had  gone  with  a  special 
purpose.  She  had  found  the  former  very 
quiet  and  unresponsive,  and  at  last,  in  sheer 
despair  of  getting  any  answer  except  to  the 
bluntest  of  questions,  Ruth  exclaimed, 

"  I  do  wish  that  you  would  say  once  for 
all  what  you  want  to  do  or  not  to  do  about 
teaching  in  the  academy." 

"I  don't  know  what  to  say,"  returned 
Madge,  moodily. 

"  By  that  you  mean  that  you  dislike  the 
idea,  but  you  think  father  or  mother  wish 
you  to,  or  perhaps  that  /am  decided  not  tc 
teach.  If  you  really — " 


MADGE  OPENS  HER  HEART.  257 

B-utk  was  going  on  to  add  that  she  would 
not  refuse  in  case  Madge  was  greatly  averse 
to  taking  the  position,  but  Madge  hurriedly 
interrupted  her : 

"  I  am  not  holding  back  on  that  account 
at  all.  In  the  summer  I  did  think  that  to 
teach — especially  away  from  home — would 
be  very  tiresome,  or  even  at  home,  if  it 
should  be  at  Kn<5x  Corners,  seemed  to  me 
dreadful.  Now,  however,  things  have  shaped 
themselves  so  that  to  teach  with  Loraine  at 
the  academy  might,  I  should  think,  be  a 
downright  interesting  experience — all  the 
more  agreeable  that  I  should  not  be  worried 
with  the  thought  that  I  must  please,  must 
succeed  or  starve." 

Ruth  listened  attentively,  waiting  for  some 
communication  that  did  not  increase  her  per- 
plexity, and  so  was  silent. 

Madge  went  on  in  a  nervously  incoherent 
way: 

"I  never  appreciated  our  home  as  I  have 
these  last  weeks.  The  fear  of  losing  mother 
was  what  first  opened  my  eyes,  and  now, 
when  I  think  how  much  freedom  from  care 
this  legacy  of  Uncle  Henry  gives  father — 


258  THE  SILENT  MAN'S  LEGACY. 

what  liberty  to  make  the  home  more  attract- 
ive than  ever— I  feel  as  if  I  never  wanted  to 
go  away  again." 

"  Oh —  You —  Why,  the  school-hours 
are  not  so  very  long.  Is  that  it?" 

"  No,  no !"  replied  Madge,  impatiently. 

"  Letter  for  you !"  cried  Johnny,  outside 
the  door ;  and,  as  if  glad  of  the  interruption, 
Madge  rose  to  take  it  from  his  hand. 

"Another  from  Cousin  Jane  ?  How  anx- 
ious she  has  been  about  mother !  I  have  not 
heard  half  of  those  she  has  already  written," 
said  Ruth. 

"  Yes,  you  have ;  Bert  has  written  a  num- 
ber of  those  that  you  thought  were  hers." 

"Has  he?  Why,  that  is  very  kind -of 
him.  But  he  always  loved  mother.  What 
does  he  say  ?" 

"  Oh,  same  thing  he  always  says,  no  doubt. 
He  is  not  gifted  in  the  art  of  letter- writing ;" 
and  Madge  delayed  reading,  upset  her  work- 
box  and  stopped  to  pick  it  up  and  rearrange 
its  contents,  until  Ruth,  having  little  curiosity 
and  thinking  the  letter  merely  one  of  inquiry 
about  their  mother,  began  again  to  bring 
Madge  to  the  matter  in  question: 


MADGE  OPENS  HER  HEART.  259 

"  Well,  you  have  not  told  me  yet  whether 
you  will  or  will  not  be  the  one  to  commence 
teaching  Monday  next  at  the  academy. 
Mother  says  we  must  decide  at  once." 

Madge  tore  open  her  letter,  read  it  a  little 
way,  dropped  it,  looked  at  Ruth  with  height- 
ened color,  then  suddenly  burst  into  tears 
and  exclaimed, 

"I  want  to  do  it,  of  course — you  might 
know  that  I  did — and  to  stay  right  here  at 
home  for  ever,  and  never,  never  go  and — 
and  marry  nobody." 

"  '  Marry  anybody  ' !"  faintly  echoed  her 
sister,  with  the  growing  fear  that  insanity 
was  what  ailed  Madge,  after  all.  "  Why, 
it  may  be  years  and  years  before  anybody 
wants  you  to  marry,  if — if  you  want  to  your- 
self." 

"I  never  shall — never.  But  oh  dear, 
Ruth !  I  have  done  such  an  awful  thing :  I 
have  let  Cousin  Jane  think  I  liked  Bert,  and 
I  have  let  him  think  that  I  would  marry 
him;  and  one  time  I  thought,  myself,  I 
should,  all  because  I  hated  to  be  poor." 

Ruth  stared  at  Madge  in  such  speechless  as- 
tonishment that  Madge  went  on  vehemently  : 


260  THE  SILENT  MAN'S  LEGACY. 

"You  see —  No,  you  never  can  under- 
stand, because  you  were  contented ;  but  last 
summer  I  saw  such  ease  and  luxury  where 
money  was  plenty,  and  I  realized  how  wor- 
ried father  was  with  nothing  better  to  look 
forward  to,  and  they  were  all  so  fond  of  me 
in  New  York.  Bert  seemed  just  like  a 
brother,  and  I  could  not  help  knowing  that 
Cousin  Jane  would  like  to  have  me  there 
always.  Then  I  thought  how  horrid  it 
would  be  shut  up  in  a  place  like  Kuox  Cor- 
ners instead  of  being  able  to  travel  and  buy 
beautiful  things,  and  to  have  you  visit  me,  and 
to  give  father  and  mother  no  end  of  comforts  ; 
for  the  Raynors  are  generous.  Well,  I  can't 
tell  how  it  did  happen.  I  never  meant  to 
deceive  or  to  be  wicked.  I  like  Bert  very 
much  for  a  sort  of  a  cousin,  and  I  did  enjoy 
that  lovely  house;  so  that  I  let  him  think 
the  day  before  I  was  sent  for  that  I — 
He  expects  I  will  marry  him  in  five  or  six 
months." 

Ruth  looked  just  as  horrified  as  Madge 
had  expected  her  to  look,  but  it  was  a  min- 
ute before  she  could  collect  her  confused 
thoughts.  Later  she  would  surely  be  sympa- 


MADGE  OPENS  HER  HEART.  261 

thetic,  but  the  boldness  of  Madge's  statement, 
her  half-childish  truthfulness,  made  Ruth  as 
indignant  as  she  was  shocked: 

"  You  mean  that  you  wanted  to  be  rich 
more  than — than  you  liked  Bert  himself?" 

"  I  didn't  exactly  know  it  then,  but  as 
soon  as  I  got  home  I  knew  that  must  be 
true,  because  I  never  want  to  go  back  there 
again — never !" 

"And  you  have  let  him  think  that  you 
liked  him  for  his  own  sake,  and  Cousin  Jane 
thinks  so  too  ?" 

"  Yes.  I  feel  awfully  about  Cousin  Jane," 
wailed  Madge.  "  How  she  will  despise  me ! 
and  she  was  so  good  I" 

"  I  should  think  you  would  feel  awfully 
about  Bert,"  retorted  Ruth,  sternly,  adding 
with  shy  hesitancy,  "  Did  he  seem  to  think 
a  great  deal  of  you?" 

"Oh,  I  came  away  pretty  soon,  and  I 
couldn't  tell.  Any  way,  he  isn't  so  much 
matter — that  is,  I  mean  the  loss  of  me  would 
never  break  his  heart;  but  he  would  be 
grieved  and  ashamed  for  me,  to  think  I  was 
so  worldly.  I  was  so,  Ruth,  I  know,  and 
that  is  why  I  can't  go  and  tell  mother  that 


262  THE  SILENT  MAN'S  LEGACY. 

I  have  been  mean  enough  to  promise  to 
marry  him,  when  I  never  would  have  done 
it  if  he  had  been  a  poor  man,  because,  Ruth, 
I  don't  want  to  marry  anybody,  and  the 
thought  that  I  have  got  to  almost  makes  me 
crazy ;"  and,  driving  her  head  into  a  pillow, 
Madge  burst  into  passionate  sobs  such  as 
Ruth  had  frequently  seen  in  Madge,  ever 
since  their  first  doll  broke  its  neck. 

At  that  point  it  was  borne  into  Ruth  that 
the  situation,  though  deplorable,  was  not 
really  tragic  ;  and  when  Madge  remarked  in 
a  smothered  tone,  "  Now  you  see  why  I  can't 
promise  to  teach  school  and  get  married 
too,  and  it  is  so  humiliating  to  tell  mother, 
and  so  awful  to  go  away  from  home,"  Ruth 
said, 

"  It  would  be  to  my  mind  a  good  deal 
more  awful  to  marry  anybody  who  believed 
in  you,  when  all  you  wanted  was- money  and 
a  fine  house ;  and  there  is  never  any  way  out 
of  untruth  but  telling  the  whole  truth.  Be- 
sides, if  you  really  didn't  mean  to  act  de- 
ceitfully, but  slipped  into  it,  why  it  is  a  little 
less  wrong,  perhaps.  I  will  tell  mother  for 
you  if  you  can't ;  but  you  can." 


MADGE  OPENS  HER  HEART.  263 

"And  what  then  ?  It  is  just  as  dreadful 
about  Cousin  Jane." 

"And  Bert?" 

"  Bert  could  forgive  me ;  he  is  very  good- 
natured,  and  I  think  he  is  enough  like  me 
to  be  merciful.  You  remember  he  was  al- 
ways doing  things  that  he  had  no  business 
to  do,  and  repenting." 

"  I  think  it  must  be  very  uncomfortable," 
suggested  sweet  little  Ruth. 

"  Oh,  it  is  dreadful ;  you  don't  know  any- 
thing about  it.  Walking  right  into  a  trap 
that  you  could  just  as  well  have  kept  out  of 
and  been  free  and  happy !" 

"  Mother  will  say — " 

"  What  ?"  cried  Madge,  rising  animatedly 
from  the  pillow  with  brilliant  cheeks. 

"  That  you  must  write  and  confess." 

"  Oh,  I  never  can,"  groaned  the  elder  sis- 
ter. "  You  do  it  for  me,  Ruth ;  that  is  a 
dear  girl.  Just  say  I  thought  I  liked  him 
well  enough,  but  I  don't ;  and  in  some  nice, 
delicate  way  say  I  never  would  have  thought 
of  it  if  he  had  not  been  rich  and — " 

"  I  think  you  can  spare  him  that  humilia- 
tion and  punish  yourself  with  it.  But  I  will 


264  THE  SILENT  MAN'S  LEGACY. 

go  and  prepare  mother,  and  then  you  come 
and  tell  her  all  the  rest ;  her  way  will  be  a 
wise  one." 

"  What  if  she  should  say  that  I  had 
promised  and  must  keep  my  word?" 

Ruth  the  younger  realized  then  that 
Madge  had  actually  thought  less  of  the 
solemnity  of  marriage  than  she  herself: 

"  Mother  will  say  there  is  nothing  wick- 
eder than  to  pretend  love  and  to  plan  to  live 
a  lie,  as  you  would  do  if  you  deceived  the 
E-aynors." 

"  Oh,  how  can  you  always  tell  if  things 
are  wrong  before  you  try  them  and  find  out, 
Ruth  ?" 

"  Did  you  think  and  pray  over  this  ?" 

"  I  thought  some,  but  I  didn't  pray ;  I 
couldn't  seem  to  take  time  this  summer.  Is 
mother  in  her  room  ?" 

"  Yes.  But  you  will  be  interrupted  there ; 
I  will  send  her  up  here  to  you,"  replied 
Ruth,  going  down  stairs  with  her  singular 
report,  the  full  meaning  of  which  she  could 
not  yet  grasp.  She  had  not  seen  Bert  Ray- 
nor  in  three  years,  and  remembered  him  as 
only  a  boy. 


MADGE  OPENS  HER  HEART.  265 

To  say  that  Mrs.  Preston  was  astonished 
would  be  to  state  the  case  very  mildly.  That 
Madge  was  a  young  lady  she  knew  after  a 
non-appreciative  fashion,  but  that  the  time 
had  come  for  a  change  in  her  lifelong  rela- 
tions to  the  home  circle  was  something  for 
which  she  was  utterly  unprepared.  Under- 
neath her  consciousness  that  Madge  had  be- 
haved very  unworthily  was  a  latent  satis- 
faction that  she  would  now  gladly  draw  back 
and  stay  with  them  still  longer.  In  spite  of 
Madge's  dismay  at  the  thought  of  "  Cousin 
Jane's"  displeasure,  Mrs.  Preston  was  en- 
tirely of  Ruth's  opinion  that  Bert  was  the 
one  who  was  to  be  considered,  inasmuch  as 
Madge  had  promised  to  marry  him,  and  not 
his  mother. 

"And  Madge  cannot  gauge  his  affection 
for  her  by  her  own  lack  of  it  for  him,"  said 
Mrs.  Preston  as  she  started  for  Madge's 
room,  adding,  "  It  is  perfectly  evident  to  me, 
before  hearing  it  from  her  own  lips,  that  in 
Bert's  surroundings,  and  not  in  Bert  himself, 
is  found  the  influence  to  which  the  foolish 
girl  has  yielded,  and  so  deceived  him." 

It  was   a  very  simple   story  that  Madge 


266  THE  SILENT  MAN'S  LEGACY. 

had  to  tell ;  but  when  once  she  had  begun, 
she  told  it  from  the  beginning,  and  Mrs. 
Preston  could  see  just  the  temptations  that 
gradually  had  come  up  before  her  pretty, 
luxury-loving  daughter. 

"  Of  course,  mother,  I  never  once  admitted 
to  myself  until  since  I  came  home  that  it 
would  be  marrying  for  money.  I  have 
heard  of  young  girls  who  did  that,  and  fan- 
cied them  deservedly  miserable  with  dis- 
agreeable old  men ;  but  Bert  is  very  nice 
and  near  my  own  age,  and  living  with 
Cousin  Jane  was  very  pleasant." 

"  My  child,  you  were  not  to  marry  Cousin 
Jane,  as  I  just  told  Ruth.  And  now  I  want 
to  talk  to  you  about  the  folly  and  danger 
of  a  woman  who  marries  in  any  such  cir- 
cumstances— of  the  unhappiness  she  usually 
brings  on  herself  and  the  injustice  done 
her  husband.  I  have  very  old-fashioned 
ideas  about  marriage,  and  I  ought,  perhaps, 
to  have  given  them  to  you  before,  but  I  did 
not  realize  that  you  were  actually  done  with 
your  playhouse  and  your  dolls." 

No  listener  could  have  been  in  a  more 
penitent  and  receptive  mood  than  was  Madg* 


MADGE  OPENS  HER  HEART.  267 

during  the  long,  earnest  talk  that  followed. 
Indeed,  so  far  as  Madge  herself  was  con- 
cerned, her  mother  could  hardly  be  sorry 
for  what  had  occurred,  because  it  had  taught 
the  young  girl  a  lesson  that  might  have  been 
learned  later  only  with  far  more  disastrous 
consequences.  . 

The  next  day,  when  they  were  more  com- 
posed, Mrs.  Preston  wrote  to  Cousin  Jane, 
and  Madge,  with  a  strange  mixture  of  re- 
lief and  mortification,  succeeded  in  getting 
into  shape  a  letter  for  Bert.  Her  mother 
counseled  her  to  ask  a  release  from  her  en- 
gagement for  the  simple  reason  that  she  did 
not  love  him.  This  she  did,  but,  aware  that 
she  had  encouraged  his  belief  that  she  liked 
him  more  than  was  a  matter  of  fact,  Madge 
attempted  no  justification  of  herself,  but 
wrote  in  a  frank,  half-comical,  half-pathetic 
unreserve  that  could  not  fail  to  conciliate  a 
harder  nature  than  Bert  possessed. 

In  a  very  short  time  both  letters  were  an- 
swered. It  secretly  amused  Mrs.  Preston 
that  "  Cousin  Jane's  "  was  seized  most  eager- 
ly by  Madge.  That  lady  was  naturally  very 
sorry  and  much  disappointed,  but  she  was 


268  THE  STLEXT  .VAN'S  LEGACY. 

not  angry  or  unreasonable.  She  moralized 
on  the  mistakes  often  made  by  young  people 
and  the  advisability  of  guarding  against  them 
when  this  was  feasible.  She  hoped  that 
this  little  episode  would  make  no  differ- 
ence in  the  friendly  relations  of  the  two 
families,  and  declared  that  it  should  not 
make  any  so  far  as  Bert  and  herself  were 
concerned.  She  cordially  urged  all  or  any 
of  the  Prestons  to  visit  them  during  the 
coming  winter,  and  she  altogether  justified 
her  claim  to  being  as  Ruth  said,  "  good-nat- 
ured." Mrs.  Preston  fancied  from  this 
hint  dropped — "  perhaps  later  everything 
will  arrange  itself  satisfactorily  " — that  Mrs. 
Raynor  imagined  Madge  did  not  know  her 
own  mind,  but  of  that  no  notice  needed  to 
be  taken. 

Bert's  letter  no  one  but  Madge  saw,  yet  she 
said  he  was  "  very  good  and  a  perfect  gentle- 
man ;"  so  all  inferred  that  he  had  given  her 
the  coveted  freedom.  Half  an  hour  later  she 
was  singing  so  merrily  that  the  house  seemed 
filled  with  music,  and  before  long  she  was 
most  enthusiastically  discussing  academy  af- 
fairs with  Loraine. 


MAD.1E  OPENS  HER  HEART.  269 

The  Professor  had  not  been  enlightened 
in  regard  to  this  last  exploit  of  his  young 
daughter ;  and  when,  that  evening,  she  de- 
lighted him  with  some  very  sensible  theories 
of  education — the  fruit  of  Mrs.  Allen's  long 
experience — he  said  to  his  wife, 

"Our  Madge  is  really  very  much  more 
mature  in  judgment  than  I  had  supposed. 
I  see  now  that  she  has  been  giving  deep 
thought  to  her  future  as  a  teacher." 

"  Oh,  Madge  is  growing  older  every  day," 
said  the  non-committal  mother,  smiling  se- 
dately. 

The  Professor  was  very  happy  in  these 
days.  His  wife  was  fast  regaining  her 
health,  and  home  was  never  more  cheery. 
When  the  wintry  blasts  howled  about  the 
house,  he  could  for  the  first  time  in  years 
reflect  complacently  on  full  coal-bins,  well- 
furnished  larder  and  outstanding  bills  all 
liquidated.  He  had  no  idea  of  settling  down 
to  inaction  because  in  the  prime  of  his  life 
he  had  come  into  a  moderate  competency, 
but  in  the  coming  year  he  resolved  to  give 
himself  to  a  congenial  work  which  he  had 
long  wished  to  accomplish — the  preparation 


270  THE  SILENT  MAN'S  LEGACY. 

of  certain  grammatical  text-books  for  school 
use.  He  felt  that  a  year  spent  in  this  way 
would  give  him  the  time  for  study  and  rec- 
reation which  he  needed  after  long  labor 
and  mental  anxiety. 

It  was  a  bright,  cold  morning  when  Madge 
Preston  went  down  the  hill  with  Loraine  to 
begin  her  duties  as  a  teacher.  Freed  from 
the  vexation  and  sense  of  wrong-doing  that 
had  lately  oppressed  her,  she  was  in  most 
exuberant  spirits. 

"Miss  Preston,"  remonstrated  Loraine, 
pausing  to  laugh  at  an  absurd  speech,  "  you 
are  about  to  enter  on  a  career  where  dignity 
is  absolutely  essential.  I  will  wait  right, 
here  by  this  gate  until  you  straighten  your 
face  and  get  into  a  proper  frame  of  mind." 

"  Oh,  don't  worry,  Loraine ;  I  shall  not 
disgrace  you.  But  I  am  so  happy !  I  have 
had  such  a  narrow  escape !  I  can't  tell  you 
about  it  now ;  perhaps  I  will  hereafter  as  a 
warning  if  I  see  you  growing  reckless. 
There  comes  Mr.  Sedgewick.  Now  I  will 
assume  such  gravity  that  he  will  not  know  I 
could  smile." 


MA  DOE  OPENS  HER  HEART.  271 

Before  the  week  was  over,  Loraine  was 
perfectly  satisfied  that  "Miss  Preston" 
would  be  successful  in  her  undertaking. 
She  was  enthusiastic  in  imparting  knowl- 
edge, and  she  possessed  the  vivacity  and 
kindliness  which  attracted  to  herself  those 
about  her.  Moreover,  she  was  a  good  disci- 
plinarian ;  all  her  rules  were  pleasantly  but 
promptly  enforced,  and  soon  in  the  same 
way  obeyed. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

ABBY  FINDS  HER    ORPHAN. 

"  Unheard  no  burdened  heart's  appeal 
Moans  up  to  God's  inclining  ear  ; 
Unheeded  by  his  tender  eye 

Falls  to  the  eartli  no  sufferer's  tear." 

WHITTIER. 

JOHNNY  PRESTON  was  not  an  in- 
u  tellectual  boy.  He  detested  mathematics ; 
he  "  loathed  Latin  ;"  he — the  son  of  a  Pro- 
fessor writing  a  Grammar — used  double  neg- 
atives and  spelled  a  little  like  Abby.  Never- 
theless, he  was  a  warm-hearted,  truthful  fel- 
low, as  industrious  as  possible  at  any  mechan- 
ical occupation.  Abby  was  a  great  consola- 
tion to  him  when  he  was  conscious  that  "  fa- 
ther "  was  "trying  to  make  the  best"  of  him  : 
"  Because,  you  know,  he  wishes  I  could 
be  a  scholar  like  Mr.  Sedgewick,  and  I  never 
can  be.  Don't  you  suppose  I  can  be  a  man 
that  he  never  will  be  ashamed  of  even  if  I 
should  be  only  a  carpenter?" 


ASSY  FINDS  HER  ORPHAN.  273 

"Our  blessed  Saviour  was  a  carpenter, 
Johnny,  and  that  fact  ought  to  keep  any 
man  from  looking  down  on  that  trade.  Now 
do  your  very  best,  and  nobody  will  ever  be 
ashamed  of  you." 

"  But  I  ought  to  love  study." 

"  Some  folks  can't,"  said  Abby,  well  know- 
ing whereof  she  affirmed,  "  but  they  can 
study,  all  the  same,  if  their  duty  demands, 
and  maybe  love  for  it  will  come — at  least, 
I've  heerd  so." 

"  When  are  you  going  to  hunt  up  the  or- 
phan?" asked  Johnny,  who  had  discussed 
at  full  length  this  object  (elect)  of  charity. 

"  Soon  as  I  can  take  a  little  more  time." 

"I  don't  see  why  you  are  so  determined 
that  she  shall  be  homely  as  a  scarecrow." 

"  You  will  see  if  you  live  to  be  old  as  I 
be,  and  a  woman  besides — which  is  not  to  be 
expected;  so,  being  a  man,  you  never  may 
understand.  But  it  is  just  this,  Johnny : 
beauty  gets  taken  care  of  pretty  tolerably 
easy  in  this  world ;  it  settles  naturally  into 
soft  places  and  has  the  strawberries  and 
cream  if  any  is  being  passed  around  in  its 
vicinity.  On  the  contrary,  crusts  and  three- 


274  THE  SILENT  MAN'S  LEGACY. 

legged  stools — if  it  is  a  question  of  sitting 
down  at  all — is  considered  plenty  good 
enough  for  tow-headed,  crooked -nosed,  freck- 
led-faced little  girls,  especially  if  they  are 
motherless  and  poor.  Oftentimes  they  are 
tenderer-hearted  and  more  lovable  than  the 
rosy-cheeked,  curly-haired  girls  that  visitors 
flatter  till  their  heads  are  turned.  Any  way, 
my  orphan  isn't  going  to  be  one  mite  pretty." 

"  Such  ought  to  be  helped,"  was  Johnny's 
sagacious  comment,  "  but  I  should  let  out 
the  job  and  take  a  beauty.  Oh,  say,  Abby  ! 
Did  you  know  that  Simpkins — " 

Abby  prepared  to  hustle  the  lad  out  of 
her  kitchen  post-haste.  To  tease  her  about 
this  shiftless  old  widower  had  been  the  boy's 
delight  for  years.* 

"  Stop,  stop,  Abby  !"  expostulated  Johnny, 
interposing  the  clothes-bars  as  a  barrier.  "  I 
only  want  to  tell  you  that  he  is  dead." 

" '  Dead  '  I  When  and  how  did  he  die  ?" 
she  inquired,  at  once  ceasing  hostilities. 

"  Oh,  he  had  the  rheumatism  for  the  last 
year — got  so  infirm  he  could  not  do  any- 
thing, and  came  on  the  county.  He  died 
suddenly  of  heart  disease." 


ABBY  FINDS  HER  ORPHAN.  275 

"  I  hope  he  didn't  suffer  much.  He  took 
everything  so  easy  it  doesn't  seem  as  if  he 
would.  Well,  I  trust  the  Lord  has  saved 
his  soul,  and  that  he  will  take  a  new  start 
in  the  next  world.  He  had  so  much  putty 
in  him  instead  of  charity,  and  some  way  it 
never  hardened.  I  am  glad  he  didn't  leave 
any  children." 

"  But  he  did." 

"No,  he  didn't.  His  little  girl,  Nelly, 
that  he  used  to  fetch  up  here  and  tell  me  in 
a  sort  of  insinuating  way  needed  a  mother — 
and  much  she  did  too — Nelly  died  of  scarlet 
fever  more  than  a  year  ago." 

"All  the  same,  he  left  a  boy  fourteen  years 
old." 

"  Oh !  Then  he  is  old  enough  to  take  care 
of  himself." 

"  He  would  be  if  he  could." 

"  What  ?     Is  he  as  flabby  as  his  father  ?" 

"He  is  a  great  deal  flabbier,"  replied 
Johnny,  "  for  three  years  ago  he  fell  off  a 
high  building  where  he  was  helping — he 
was  a  smart  little  fellow,  everybody  says — 
and  broke  his  back  or  paralyzed  it.  Any  way, 
he  never  could  sit  up  since,  and  never  will. 


276  THE  SILENT  MAN'S  LEGACY. 

Old  Simpkins  was  as  good  to  him  as  he 
could  be,  and  nursed  him  like  a  woman. 
They  lived  in  two  little  rooms  over  Hind's 
cooper-shop.  I  went  to  see  Moza  once,  and 
took  him  some  oranges." 

"  Moses  is  his  name  ?" 

"No,  but  it  is  another  Bible  name,  he 
said — one  his  mother  found  in  the  Old 
Testament.  He  has  had  to  be  taken  to  the 
poorhouse,  and  they  say  he  cried  awfully — 
because,  of  course,  he  never  will  come  out. 
But  the  doctor  said  he  might  live  to  be  as 
old  as  his  father." 

Abby's  big  green  eyes  were  dim  with 
sympathetic  tears;  and  when  Johnny  soon 
went  about  his  business,  she  fell  into  a  long 
train  of  thought.  How  she  had  detested 
"  old  Simpkins,"  the  slow,  lackadaisical  creat- 
ure who  had  dogged  her  steps  a  few  years 
before,  and  had  offered  himself  once  a  month 
for  a  length  of  time  that  drove  Abby  almost 
desperate  !  But  he  was  harmless  and  pious, 
too,  in  an  ineffectual,  diluted  way  exasperat- 
ing to  a  worker  of  any  degree  of  energy, 
physical  or  spiritual.  Abby  wished  now 
that  she  had  not  been  quite  so  savage  with 


AS  BY  FINDS  HER   ORPHAN.  277 

him — had  oftener  let  him  sit  on  the  bottom 
doorstep  and  eat  what  he  was  wont  to  call  a 
"snack  of  good  vittals."  She  wondered 
what  the  poorhouse  was  like,  considered  in 
the  light  of  a  steady  residence,  and  she  re- 
solved before  another  Sunday  came  around 
to  see  for  herself  and  to  visit  poor  Moza. 
As  from  that  visit  came  results  which  may 
(not  here,  but  hereafter)  be  considered  im- 
portant, let  it  be  recorded  in  detail. 

The  poorhouse  was  a  long  walk  from 
Hempstead,  but,  as  it  was  near  the  main 
road,  Abby  easily  secured  a  ride  to  a  point 
near  by,  and  so  one  clear,  cold  day  she  pre- 
sented herself  at  a  side  door  of  the  big  red- 
brick building.  She  then  coolly  constituted 
herself  a  committee  for  silent  investigation. 
Being  plainly  clad  and  by  no  means  stylish, 
she  was  taken  for  a  relative  of  some  of  the 
inmates,  and  was  thus  enabled  to  see  more 
than  any  supervisor  or  caller  at  the  front  door 
would  probably  have  beheld.  She  concluded 
that  there  might  be  far  worse  institutions  of 
the  kind,  and  she  sincerely  hoped  there 
might  be  much  better  ones.  Perhaps  her 
own  account  of  the  expedition,  given  that 


278  THE  SILENT  MAN'S  LEGACY. 

evening  to  Grandmother  Grey,  will  be  more 
graphic  than  any  elegant  version : 

"  First,  of  course,  I  met  the  poor-folks' 
smell — always  the  same ;  sort  of  made  up  of 
old  clothes,  dead-and-gone  victuals,  depraved 
human  nature  and  carbolic  acid.  I  went  in 
the  kitchen — a  big  brick-floored,  smoked- 
walled  place  with  a  roaring  great  fire  in  the 
end,  around  which  were  a  lot  of  feeble  old 
men  and  cripples.  A  half-witted  woman 
was  setting  the  table  with  wedges  of  bread 
and  bowls  of  mush  and  milk  down  the  bare 
boards.  I  stumbled  up  a  staircase  that 
ought  to  be  mended,  and  looked  through  a 
lot  of  rooms  where  there  was  work  going  on 
— half-and-half  clean — then  into  a  lot  more 
rooms  scoured  up  and  cold  enough  for  a 
country  funeral  in  January.  I  got  halfway 
into  a  wing  where  I  believe  they  are  keep- 
ing lunatics  contrary  to  law,  for  I  am  sure  I 
saw  one  in  a  kind  of  sacking-bag — a  strait- 
jacket,  perhaps — standing  by  a  barred  win- 
dow. I  am  going  to  find  out  hereafter  why 
I  was  hustled  out  of  that  part  of  the  house. 
Up  another  flight  of  stairs  were  big  rooms 
full  of  women,  old  and  feeble  and  luny  in  a 


ABBY  FINDS  HER   ORPHAN.  279 

harmless  way.  They  were  chatting  together 
just  like  other  folks,  and  some  of  them 
seemed  contented;  some  grumbled  about 
the  tea  they  didn't  get,  and  so  should  I  in 
their  places,  no  doubt.  The  old  men's  quar- 
ters were  not  one  bit  pleasant.  An  old 
woman  with  any  of  the  woman  left  in  her 
will  tidy  up  her  medicine-bottles  and  pin  up 
a  chromo  and  wear  a  knit  breakfast-cape 
if  she  has  one,  but  an  old  man-pauper 
generally  shrivels  into  musty  woolen  scented 
with  stale  tobacco.  I  have  often  noticed  it. 
There  was  a  long  row  of  little  dismal  rooms 
off  a  hall  that  wasn't  furnished  with  any- 
thing but  new  whitewash.  The  hall,  I 
mean ;  the  rooms  had  each  a  bed,  a  stool 
and  a  shelf.  I  forgot  what  I  came  for, 
because  I  found  half  a  dozen  poor  creatures 
that  I  had  to  spend  a  few  minutes  with  try- 
ing to  cheer  them  up — a  poor  girl  dying 
with  consumption,  not  a  friend  this  side  the 
ocean,  a  mother  bedridden  with  five  little 
children  tossing  about  she  scarcely  knew 
where;  but  by  and  by  I  found  Moza,  and 
the  moment  I  saw  that  the  poor  fellow 
hadn't  a  look  like  his  shiftless  coot  of  a 


280  THE  SILENT  MAN'S  LEGACY. 

father  my  heart  kind  of  went  out  to  him 
If  he  had  a  had  that  grin,  nothing  but 
grace  could  have  made  me  want  to  help 
him  ;  but  he  didn't — far  from  it.  A  woman 
said,  '  Moz,  here's  company  for  you,'  and  let 
me  right  in  where  he  was.  I  thought  it 
was  a  girl  till  he  spoke — a  girl  with  nice 
features  and  big  sad  black  eyes.  I  sat  right 
down  on  the  edge  of  his  bed — a  tin  dish  of 
baked  beans  occupying  the  stool — and  we 
got  acquainted.  He  has  ten  times  the  sense 
of  his  father,  but,  oh  my !  how  doleful  he 
was !  and  good  reason  he  had  to  be.  He 
can't  set  up  unless  he  is  propped  up.  The 
overseer  promised  to  have  a  frame  made  to 
put  behind  his  back,  but  he  hadn't  found 
time.  He  can  use  his  arms  and  hands,  but 
that  is  all.  He  thought  that  was  nothing, 
ajiJ  he  had  looked  at  those  four  white- 
washed walls  for  just  one  hundred  and 
seventeen  days  and  amused  himself  calcu- 
lating how  many  more  such  there  would  be 
if  he  lived  fifty  years  having  three  hundred 
and  sixty-five  days  in  each.  Cheerful, 
wasn't  it?" 

Abby  expected   the  "Poor   child!"    that 


ABBY  FINDS  HER  ORPHAN.  281 

grandma  uttered  from  the  very  depths  of 
her  tender  heart,  and  she  hastened  to  ex- 
claim, 

"Well,  now,  Grandmother  Grey,  if  I 
didn't  have  a  revelation  right  then  and  there 
that  the  Lord  Jesus  had  sent  me  over  to 
that  county-house  to  find  my  orphan,  I  am 
greatly  mistaken ;  but  I  know  I  am  not 
He  is  not  a  girl,  and  he  is  not  awful  homely, 
and  he  never  will  go  out  fighting  his  way  in 
the  world  ;  but  he  is  mine,  and  I  love  him. 
I  do,  now,  and  you  needn't  laugh.  I  told 
him  so,  and  I  told  him  enough  to  give  him 
some  things  besides  whitewash  and  the  mul- 
tiplication-table to  think  of.  That  boy  is  go- 
ing to  have  a  frame  for  his  back ;  Johnny 
is  going  to  make  it,  and  I  reckon  he  will 
get  good  in  the  process  as  well  as  Moza. 
Moza  can  read,  and  he  is  going  to  have  such 
books  as  Mrs.  Preston  thinks  good  for  him. 
Maybe  he  can  learn  to  draw  and  to  sew  and 
amuse  himself.  I  didn't  say  anything  to 
him  about  it,  but  a  boy  who  can  use  his  arms 
and  hands  freely  could  learn  some  means  of 
being  self-supporting  in  a  measure.  The 
pauper  feeling  must  never  take  the  self- 


282  THE  SILENT  MAN'S  LEGACY. 

respect  out  of  the  poor  chap.  I  did  not  tell 
him  anything  unwise  about  my  means  or 
plans,  but  I  promised  to  look  around  for 
something  like  basket-making  or  hand-work 
of  some  sort  that  he  could  learn.  He  has 
an  aunt — a  decent,  kind  woman — who  would 
gladly  take  him  into  her  little  home  if  any 
small  amount  came  in  with  him.  I  think 
that  can  be  managed,  and  I  don't  propose  to 
have  this  poor  boy  lie  there  in  that  poor- 
house  year  after  year  until  he  grows  half 
idiotic  for  lack  of  care,  as  such  people  do 
grow.  I  mean  soul-and-brain-care.  The 
overseer  told  me  his  back  was  not  seriously 
injured,  and  that  the  doctor  said  he  might 
in  course  of  time,  being  young  and  of  good 
constitution,  get  much  more  use  of  his  limbs. 
He  misses  his  father  dreadfully ;  and  there 
must  have  been  something  good  about  the 
old  simpleton,  for  he  was  kind  to  Moza." 

Abby  had  really  no  breath  left  to  continue 
her  narrative,  and  so  paused  to  hear  grand- 
mother's sympathetic  comments.  The  latter 
warmly  commended  Abby's  benevolent  proj- 
ect, and  declared  it  more  feasible  than  the 
plan  of  patronizing  a  stray  orphan  in  some 


ABBY  FINDS  HER  ORPHAN.  283 

distant  town.  She  said  that  she  had  heard 
of  Moza's  mother  as  a  Christian  woman  who 
doubtless  had  prayed  for  her  children's 
welfare,  and  that  Abby  might  now  be  God's 
answer  to  those  very  prayers. 

"  I  hope  so ;  I  would  ask  nothing  better 
to  do  with  all  my  spare  time  and  money." 

The  simple-hearted  old  lady,  who  was 
equally  "  rich,"  did  not  think  of  smiling  at 
the  tone  in  which  Abby  spoke — quite  like  one 
able  to  found  a  hospital  or  endow  a  college. 

From  that  day  Abby  had  a  mission.  At 
least  once  a  week  she  visited  her  orphan 
and  with  kindly  words  and  vigorous  common 
sense  kept  up  his  courage  and  his  dawning 
manliness.  There  was  no  danger  that  she 
would  coddle  him  foolishly,  but  she  kept 
hope  in  him  for  the  future  and  a  present 
trust  in  the  divine  Helper  who  previously 
had  been  to  him  only  as  a  Being  remote 
from  humble  lives  like  his  own. 

That  was  a  short  and  happy  winter  for 
the  Prestons.  The  Professor  enjoyed  his 
books,  his  work  and  the  delightful  novelty 
of  rest  and  recreation  when  he  was  weary. 


284  THE  SILENT  MAN'S  LEGACY. 

Madge  and  Loraine  were  equally  contented 
in  the  academy,  which  under  Mr.  Sedgewick 
prospered  well.  He  was  as  conscientious  as 
Professor  Preston,  and,  being  younger  and 
more  magnetic  in  personality,  he  awakened 
a  real  enthusiasm  for  reform  in  all  his  pupils. 
Mrs.  Preston  and  the  others  of  the  home- 
circle  gave  many  happy  hours  to  plans  for 
remodeling  the  dilapidated  old  house  into  an 
abode  convenient  and  beautiful.  In  occupa- 
tions like  these  the  weeks  and  the  months 
fled  swiftly  by,  leaving  only  pleasant  records 
behind. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

GRANDMA   GREY'S  REMINISCENCES. 

"And  oh,  beyond  this  shadowy  damp. 

Where  all  is  bright  and  fair, 
I  know  full  well  those  dear  old  hands 

Will  palms  of  victory  bear. 
Where  crystal  streams  thro'  endless  years 

Flow  over  golden  sands, 
And  where  the  old  grow  young  again, 

I'll  clasp  nay  mother's  hands." 

IT  was  May  again,  and  all  about  the  old 
home  the  peach  trees  and  the  apple  trees 
were  in  bloom ;  birds  sang  from  dawn  until 
dark,  and  the  air  was  sweet  with  spring  per- 
fumes of  bud,  flower  and  tender  earth.  Only, 
the  yellow  house  was  greatly  changed  since 
last  May.  Without,  it  had  been  tinted  the 
greenish  olive  that  harmonizes  with  nature's 
own  coloring,  and  within,  all  was  renewed  or 
beautified.  Ruth  rejoiced  in  the  hall  stairs 
with  a  broad  landing  where  midway  were  a 

285 


286  THE  SILENT  MAN'S  LEGACY. 

window,  a  great  easy-chair  and  a  shelf  of 
books.  The  Professor  could  not  sufficiently 
admire  his  library  with  new  desk,  repolished 
and  replenished  bookcases,  soft  dark  rugs 
and  rejuvenated  chairs  and  sofa.  Madge's 
taste,  cultivated  by  the  New  York  visit  and 
restrained  by  her  mother's  ideas  of  fitness, 
had  found  exercise  in  making  the  parlor 
artistically  charming  without  taking  away 
its  old  quaint  individuality  as  a  room  en- 
deared to  them  and  their  guests.  Perhaps 
it  was  on  account  of  hospitable  thoughts  of 
these  last  that  the  mother,  the  grandmother 
and  Abby  delighted  chiefly  in  the  enlarged 
chambers,  now  daintly  fitted  up  and  ready  for 
the  most  fastidious  visitor.  Nothing  any- 
where in  the  house  was  very  elegant  or  in 
any  way  new-fashioned  merely  for  fashion's 
sake,  but  all  was  in  order,  appropriate  and 
pleasing.  What  that  means  to  a  family  who 
have  had  patiently  to  mend  old  furniture, 
patch  old  draperies  and  endure  the  constant 
sight  of  irreparable  ugliness,  only  such  a  fam- 
ily can  appreciate. 

When    Ruth    one   day   gayly   announced 
that  the  last  pretty  pin-cushion  adorned  the 


GRANDMA   GREY'S  REMINISCENCES.      287 

last  toilet-stand  and  everything  was  "com- 
plete," her  mother  said, 

"  What  shall  we  do  now  ?" 

"  Well,  I  was  about  to  fill  the  blue  jug  on 
the  mantel-piece  with  pink  and  white  apple- 
blossoms.  I  will  give  you  a  holiday,  as  you 
have  been  a  very  industrious  mother  of 
late." 

"  Thank  you  !  But  I  was  thinking  of  the 
Kaynors,  or  of  Cousin  Jane.  Would  it  not 
be  pleasant  to  write  and  invite  Cousin  Jane  to 
come  for  a  long  visit  ?  We  could  then  re- 
turn some  of  her  kindness  to  Madge  and  do 
away  with  any  lingering  unpleasantness  con- 
nected with  that  episode  last  fall,  in  case  she 
harbors  any  resentment.  I  hope  she  does 
not." 

"  I  think  it  an  excellent  plan,"  exclaimed 
Ruth.  "  She  likes  the  country,  and  she  told 
Madge  last  year  that  she  began  to  get  tired 
of  fashionable  resorts.  We  can  make  her 
comfortable  now,  because  we  are  able  to  af- 
ford things  which  she  thinks  indispensable." 

"  Well,  I  will  write  to  her  to-day,"  was 
Mrs.  Preston's  conclusion  when  Ruth  went 
to  her  bouquet-making. 


288  THE  SILENT  MAN'S  LEGACY. 

The  letter  was  written,  and  Cousin  Jane 
promptly  replied  that  nothing  would  please 
her  more  than  an  "  old-fashioned  "  visit  in  a 
quiet  place  like  Hempstead,  and  with  friends 
like  the  Prestons.  She  said  she  had  not  been 
at  all  well  and  her  physician  had  told  her 
to  avoid  unnecessary  fatigue,  summer  travel 
and  excitement.  Accordingly,  the  first  of 
June  found  her  in  the  sweet,  cool  front 
chamber  whose  arrangements  grandmother 
had  planned  with  a  thought  in  her  loving 
heart  of  that  Pilgrim's  resting-place — "  the 
chamber  called  Peace."  The  day  she  came 
and  was  installed  there  Madge  said  to  Ruth, 

"  She  is  growing  old  very  fast ;  she  looks 
ten  years  older  than  she  looked  last  sum- 
mer." 

"  Yes ;  she  is  going  to  lose  her  health,  I 
am  afraid.  I  hope  not,  for  I  can't  think  of 
her  confined  to  the  house,  she  is  so  fond  of 
change  and  novelty." 

"  Yes ;  she  never  reads  much,  and  does 
not  seem  to  have  what  Mrs.  Allen  used  to 
call  '  many  internal  resources  of  amuse- 
ment.' " 

It  was  in  consideration  of  this  fact  that 


GRANDMA    GREY'S  REMINISCENCES.     289 

the  girls  devoted  a  great  share  of  their  time 
that  summer  to  walking,  visiting,  driving 
and  various  little  excursions  with  Mrs.  Ray- 
nor,  who  from  the  first  found  herself  very 
contented  and  restful.  She  was  a  simple, 
kindly  woman  who  might  have  amounted  to 
more  mentally  and  spiritually  had  she  ever 
had  the  companionship  of  earnest  Christians 
or  the  discipline  of  trouble.  She  had  placid- 
ly drifted  down  the  current  of  an  easy,  un- 
eventful life  with  all  her  wishes  gratified  be- 
cause she  had  few  beyond  human  agency  to 
supply.  She  considered  the  Prestons  excep- 
tional for  goodness  and  intellect,  but  for  her- 
self would  have  never  known  what  to  do  with 
"  their  high  ideals  and  profound  principles." 
Madge  was  the  only  one  of  them  whom  she 
considered  really  "practical,"  although  she 
had  formed  a  strong  attachment  to  Ruth 
while  the  latter  was  in  her  care  abroad. 

After  several  weeks  spent  in  the  family, 
Mrs.  Raynor  began  to  study  the  domestic 
life  as  a  problem  worth  her  thorough  com- 
prehension. Slowly  the  truth  filtered  into 
her  mind  that  Christianity,  over  and  above 
being  the  creed  which  she  reverently  recited 

19 


290  THE  SILENT  MAN'S  LEGACY. 

in  church — when  she  attended  one — was  a 
life  radiating  from  the  heart  out  into  every- 
day conduct  and  coloring  all  the  believer's 
thoughts.  Hitherto  she  had  regarded  her 
handsomely-bound  Bible  as  in  a  vague  way 
the  corner-stone  of  civilization.  The  fact 
that  it  reposed  on  her  centre-table  and  con- 
tained ten  commandments  which  she  hoped 
she  kept  by  not  stealing,  lying  or  worship- 
ing idols, — this  fact  made  her  a  Christian, 
not  a  heathen.  It  seemed  to  her  very  queer 
when  Grandmother  Grey  and  Abby,  per- 
haps, would  talk  about  a  psalm  or  a  gospel 
promise  with  the  unaffected  pleasure  of  a 
child  in  a  letter  from  home  or  a  gift  received 
of  actual  value  to  them  personally.  The 
old  lady  was  the  first  one  to  understand 
Cousin  Jane,  to  see  that  she  was  coming 
gradually  to  realize  that,  like  the  foolish 
ones  of  old,  she  had  received  her  lamp,  but 
had  taken  no  heavenly  oil  wherewith  to  fill  it, 
and  now — late,  but  not  too  late — she  might 
arouse  to  look  for  help  to  those  about  her. 
As  opportunity  offered,  therefore,  Grand- 
mother Grey  dropped  a  word  in  season,  and 
soon  Cousin  Jane  made  opportunities  and 


GRANDMA   GREY'S  REMINISCENCES.     291 

lingered  with  her  after  prayers  in  the  morn- 
ing— even  went  with  her  to  the  evening 
prayer-meeting  in  the  church. 

Loraine  was  the  only  person  in  the  family 
who  failed  to  feel  more  or  less  interested  in 
Mrs.  Ray  nor.  This  exception  was  no  doubt 
because  the  only  topics  of  conversation  be- 
tween them  had  been  New  York  society,  shops, 
concerts  and  that  about  which  each  supposed 
the  other  chiefly  concerned.  Cousin  Jane 
gave  Loraine  credit  for  great  "intellectu- 
ality," to  be  sure,  but  she  carefully  avoided 
any  "  book-talk,"  being  well  aware  of  her 
own  limitations. 

The  three  girls  were  sitting  together  in 
the  parlor  one  evening,  when  Loraine  laugh- 
ingly remarked, 

"There  is  a  wise  injunction  which  says, 
'  In  time  of  peace  prepare  for  war.'  Now, 
I  can't  affirm  that  I  have  found  any  gray 
hairs  yet,  but  I  have  been  reflecting  on  old 
age.  Grandma  Grey  suggested  my  reflec- 
tions, I  have  no  doubt." 

"  She  suggests  a  great  many  of  mine," 
said  Ruth. 


292  THE  SILENT  MAN'S  LEGACY. 

"  I  met  an  old  lady  a  year  or  two  ago," 
continued  Loraine,  "  and  at  first  I  was  de- 
lighted with  her.  She  was  very  elegant  in 
manner,  very  cultivated  ;  and  when  one  day 
I  heard  her  entertain  a  roomful  of  young 
people,  I  thought  to  myself,  This  is  what  is 
meant  by  '  growing  old  gracefully ;'  but  later 
I  was  not  at  all  sure  that  I  cared  to  know 
her  better.  She  was  as  vain  of  her  beauti- 
ful white  curls  as  she  could  ever  have  been 
when  they  were  golden,  and  she  was  as  full 
of  petty  jealousies  as  any  foolish  girl,  in 
spite  of  her  ability  to  shine  in  society  long 
after  she  was  a  grandmother.  In  fact,  I 
don't  think  she  was  as  agreeable  as  many 
fussy,  tedious  old  ladies  who  never  talk 
about  anything  worth  hearing.  Many  of 
these  last  are  Christians.  Yet  what  makes 
them  so  different  from  your  grandmother  ?" 

"  Well,  my  explanation  of  it  is  that  she 
was  a  lady  of  uncommon  good  sense,  to 
begin  with,"  suggested  Madge. 

"  Granted ;  but  so,  doubtless,  have  been 
many  women  who  break  up  and  degenerate 
as  they  grow  older,"  returned  Loraine. 

"Let  us  artfully  entice  her  into  giving  us 


GRANDMA   GREY'S  REMINISCENCES.      293 

her  ideas  of  '  growing  old  gracefully/  "  pro- 
posed Ruth ;  and  accordingly,  when,  soon 
after,  the  old  lady  came  into  the  parlor  with 
her  knitting  to  rest  a  while,  Loraine  asked 
her  the  meaning  of  the  phrase. 

"  Oh,  I  don't  know,  dear — -just  what  most 
people  understand  by  it;  but  I  think  it 
ought  to  mean  growing  old  with  grace — 
heavenly  grace,  all  the  time  sought  for  to 
the  end  that  the  older  we  get,  the  more  com- 
passion we  may  have  one  of  another,  being, 
as  the  apostle  says,  'pitiful  and  courteous.' 
He  expressly  says  that  if  we  will  '  see  good 
days '  and  '  love  life '  we  must  refrain  our 
tongue  from  evil,  must  '  do  good,'  and,  last 
of  all,  must  '  seek  peace.'  We  will  not  '  love 
life '  in  the  right  way  if  as  we  grow  old  we 
neglect  to  bless  others  and  to  realize  that  we 
ourselves  are  called,  as  Peter  says,  to  'in- 
herit a  blessing.' " 

"  Yes,  but  Loraine  said  just  before  you 
came  in  that  some  old  people  who  are  sincere 
Christians  are  not  so  lovely  as  they  might 
be,  or  are  positively  disagreeable." 

"Unfortunately,  Madge,  that  is  true  of 
many  who  are  young  and  middle-aged,  as 


294  THE  SILENT  MAN'S  LEGACY. 

well  as  of  the  old.  However,  as  I  am  not 
good  at  theorizing,  I  will  give  you  the  result 
of  my  practical  experience  and  my  observa- 
tion. When  you  get  along  toward  middle 
life,  you  will  do  well,  girls,  to  take  your- 
selves in  hand  and  find  out  what  things 
you  will  be  wise  in  avoiding.  First,  spend 
a  while  studying  the  good  and  the  bad  traits 
of  your  near  relatives,  for  by  that  time  the 
same  traits  may  have  gotten  tolerably  well  un- 
der way  in  you.  If  there  is  a  fussy  old  aunt 
who  worries  all  her  servants  until  they  are 
cross,  and  who  is  detested  by  the  children,  the 
first  time  that  you  are  'nervous  enough  to  fly,' 
just  think,  '  This  way  lies  danger.  Aunt 

X is  a  blood-relation,  and  what  she  is 

I  can  very  easily  be;  so  I  will  begin  now 
to  drill  for  a  placid  old  age  which  seeks 
peace  for  myself  and  the  people  who  may 
have  to  live  with  me.'  In  fact,  just  appro- 
priate the  best  sort  of  heirlooms,  and  banish 
the  worst  kind  to  the  attics  with  cast-off 
clothes.  Hold  fast  to  your  grandfather's 
good  manners,  and  relinquish  that  family 
spirit  of  revenge  which,  it  may  be,  you  were 
getting  too  intimate  with.  You  will  be 


GRANDMA   GREY'S  REMINISCENCES.     295 

astonished  to  find,  after  such  a  time  of  men- 
tal and  spiritual  overhauling,  how  ignorant 
you  were  of  your  own  failings  and  how 
uncharitable  toward  your  relations.  My 
particular  struggle  was  to  grow  old  believing 
that  new  things  were  just  exactly  as  good  as 
ancient  ones,  and  often  better — that  as  roses 
are  blossoming  rare  and  fragrant  to-day  just 
as  they  opened  when  I  was  a  child,  so  all 
life  around  me  is  now  bright  and  sweet  and 
always  young  to  somebody.  You  cannot 
arrive  at  this  conclusion  after  you  are  old ; 
you  must  grow  old  believing  it.  I  had  a 
lesson  once  years  ago,"  continued  grand- 
mother, smiling  at  the  recollection,  "  and 
it  did  me  great  good.  I  was  long  past 
middle  life  when  some  young  people  were 
chattering  and  laughing  within  my  hear- 
ing, and  by  and  by  they  read  a  few 
letters  from  their  companions  that  amused 
them  greatly — just  such  letters  as  all  girls 
like.  I  sat  thinking  of  my  schoolmates, 
and  in  looking  back  it  seemed  to  me  there 
were  no  such  young  people  left — none  so 
beautiful  and  so  high-spirited  and  witty.  I 
remembered  their  letters,  and  thought  they 


296  THE  SILENT  MAN'S  LEGACY. 

wrote  in  a  style  as  superior  to  that  of  girls 
nowadays  as  one  could  possibly  imagine.  I 
did  not  mean  to  be  ill-natured,  and  I  don't 
think  the  girls  considered  me  so;  but  by 
and  by  I  told  them  of  my  girlish  correspond- 
ents— how  wise  and  witty  they  were,  what 
elevated  sentiments  they  uttered  and  what 
noble  women  they  all  proved.  The  dear 
young  girls  with  whom  I  was  talking  wished 
so  heartily  that  they  could  see  '  those  beauti- 
ful old  letters '  that  I  remembered  I  had  a 
pack  of  them  somewhere,  and  I  resolved  to 
find  and  reread  them  for  their  benefit  and 
pleasure." 

"And  did  you  do  it  ?"  asked  Ruth. 

"  Yes,  and  they  could  not  appreciate  them, 
perhaps,"  put  in  Madge.  "  I  have  read 
about  those  elegant  epistles  of  olden  times, 
and  fancy  them  in  the  style  of  the  Spectator 
that  you  liked  to  read,  Ruth." 

"  Don't  interrupt  grandmother,"  said  Ruth ; 
"  I  want  to  know  the  rest." 

"Well,  I  found  the  little  yellow  packet — 
forty-four  years  old — and  I  read  the  letters 
all  over,  and  never  but  once  before  did  I 
have  the  same  kind  of  a  surprise.  My 


GRANDMA   GREY'S  REMINISCENCES.     297 

mother  had  a  jewel-casket  that  when  I  was 
ten  years  old  I  thought  wonderfully  rare 
and  fine.  My  father  gave  it  to  one  of  his 
stepdaughters,  and  I  mourned  its  loss  more 
than  words  can  tell.  This  half-sister  died 
ten  years  ago,  and  among  other  relics  sent 
me  was  the  casket. — I  told  you,  Ruth, 
before  it  came,  about  the  inlaid  lid,  the 
golden  hinges,  the  fine  carved  ivory  and 
the  rose-satin  lining. — It  came — the  very 
same  casket,  but  a  little  faded,  common  box 
that  never  could  have  been  the  thing  I 
had  imagined  it  after  my  imagination  had 
strengthened  with  my  growth.  So  it  was 
with  the  poor  little  letters.  I  could  not 
understand  the  long-forgotten  jests,  and  the 
wisdom  was  very  weak.  They  called  up  in 
me  lively  memories,  but  there  was  no  life  or 
worth  left  in  them.  I  never  read  them  to 
the  young  girls,  whose  own  letters  I  realized 
were  brighter,  after  all ;  I  only  preached  a 
sermon  to  myself  and  afterward  tried  to 
put  it  in  practice.  But  this  very  minute,  in 
talking  about  myself,  I  am  yielding  to  one 
weakness  that  often  is  apt  to  go  with  fool- 
ish old^  age." 


298  THE  SILENT  MAN'S  LEGACY. 

"  You  are  yielding  to  an  impulse  to  do  us 
good,"  returned  Loraine,  warmly. 

"That  you  are!"  echoed  Madge,  giving 
the  old  lady  a  hearty  hug  as  she  rose  to  pull 
up  the  curtain,  and  in  her  own  half-loving, 
half-teasing  way  added,  "  Don't  you  fail  to  tell 
us  something  that  Bunyan  says,  or  I  shall 
feel  cheated. — Grandma's  good  talks  are  little 
volumes  with  a  Bible  binding  and  a  Bunyan 
clasp.  Think,  now,  and  please  have  it  some- 
thing that  will  encourage  a  headstrong,  blun- 
dering creature  like  Madge  Preston  to  try  to 
grow  old  as  gracefully  as  a  certain  modest 
relative  whom  I  might  mention.  I  don't 
feel  that  I  promise  well  for  age." 

"Then  I  have  just  the  right  message  for 
you,  dear.  Old  Bunyan  says  tell  you  that 
'some  say,  When  grace  and  a  good  nature 
meet  together,  they  do  make  shining  Chris- 
tians ;  but  I  say,  When  grace  and  a  great 
sinner  meet,  and  when  grace  shall  subdue 
that  great  sinner,  and  shall  operate  after  its 
kind  in  that  great  sinner's  soul,  then  we  have 
a  shining  Christian.' " 

"According  to  that,  I  must  believe  that 
you  were  once  a  great  sinner,"  murmured 


GRANDMA   GREY'S  REMINISCENCES.     299 

Madge,  "  but  it  requires  faith  to  accept  the 
idea." 

By  and  by  the  girls  went  for  a  stroll  in 
the  moonlight,  and  Mrs.  Raynor,  who  had 
been  silently  resting  in  an  easy-chair,  was 
left  alone  with  grandmother. 

"I  never  thought  about  growing  old  in 
any  such  way.  It  has  always  meant  dis- 
agreeable things  to  me — failing  eyesight,  false 
teeth  and  trouble  with  false  hair.  Real  old 
people  who  have  not  had  fine  minds  as  you 
must  have  had,"  she  continued  as  earnestly 
as  ungrammatically  "  they  do  get  silly  and 
tiresome,  asking  endless  questions  and  fret- 
ting." 

"  No,  deary ;  it  is  no  question  of  having  a 
fine  mind  in  younger  days:  it  is  only  to 
have  the  mind  of  Christ  and  the  wisdom 
of  the  Holy  Spirit's  teaching,  and  these  are 
freely  given  to  us  of  God,  the  Bible  says. 
Of  course  physical  decay  may  make  many 
old  persons  childish  and  troublesome,  but  I 
was  not  talking  to  the  girls  so  much  about 
extreme  old  age  as  of  people  who  were  grow- 
ing old." 

"Like    me,  and   not    with    grace,"   said 


300  THE  SILENT  MAN'S  LEGACY. 

Mrs.  Raynor,  sadly.  "If  I  knew  how  to 
begin,  I  would  try  to  make  mys-elf  over." 

"Oh,  none  of  us  can  do  that,  and  so  it  is 
blessed  to  remember  that  the  gospel  says, '  By 
grace  are  ye  saved  through  faith,  and  that 
not  of  yourselves,  it  is  the  gift  of  God.'  We 
begin  by  believing  the  word  and  just  taking 
the  gift." 

The  old  lady  never  talked  in  a  sancti- 
monious, unnaturally-solemn  way  about  sa- 
cred things.  Just  now  she  was  gently  rocking, 
stroking  Johnny's  cat,  who  would  sit  in  her 
lap,  and  talking  as  easily  as  about  the  moon- 
light on  the  roses  outside  the  window. 

Swallowing  something  that  seemed  to 
choke  her,  Cousin  Jane  said  humbly, 

"  I  am  prett}r  ignorant  about  religion.  I 
would  like  to  have  you  tell  me  a  few 
things." 

"I  should  love  to  help  you,  dear,"  said 
grandmother,  quickly;  and  just  because  love 
did  prompt  her,  every  word  she  spoke  found 
its  way  to  the  soul  hungering  after  right- 
eousness. 

-The  three  girls  went  down  the  hill  talk- 


GRANDMA   GREY'S  REMINISCENCES.     301 

ing  of  school-matters.  The  spring  term  at 
the  academy  had  been  prolonged  on  account 
of  a  Christmas  vacation,  and  the  next  week 
were  to  be  held  the  closing  exercises.  The 
new  teachers  were  planning  to  make  them 
of  unusual  interest. 

"  Here  we  are  almost  at  the  Parkers'," 
suddenly  exclaimed  Loraine,  "and  if  you 
don't  object,  let  us  go  in  for  a  moment.  I 
want  to  borrow  a  History  which  Mr.  Parker 
has  in  the  library,  and  that  he  offered  to 
lend  me." 

"There  are  Mary  and  her  father  now, 
sitting  on  the  piazza.  Yes,  let  us  go," 
returned  Ruth  ;  but  when  they  had  entered 
the  gate  and  had  been  greeted  by  Mary, 
they  discovered  that  the  second  person  was 
Mr.  Sedgwick,  and  not  Mr.  Parker. 

"  Sit  here  and  chat  a  while,"  urged  Mary  ; 
"  it  is  quite  too  beautiful  a  night  to  stay  in 
doors." 

Mr.  Sedgewick  seconded  the  invitation, 
saying, 

"  Perhaps  you  don't  recognize  my  right  to 
extend  the  hospitalities  of  the  house — or,  at 
least,  of  the  porch ;  but  I  have  the  right  of 


302  THE  SILENT  MAN'S  LEGACY. 

an  inmate :  I  have  been  taken  in  here,  and 
the  members  of  the  family  have  promised  to 
do  for  me. — Have  they  not,  Miss  Mary  ?  or  do 
you  agree  only  to  bear  and  to  forbear  ?" 

"  Oh,  I  don't  think  I  noticed  the  form  of 
the  contract,"  laughed  Mary,  finding  cushions 
for  the  girls,  who  soon  understood,  somewhat 
to  their  surprise,  that  Mr.  Sedgewick  intend- 
ed to  remain  in  Hempstead  through  the 
vacation,  and  that  the  Parkers  had  taken 
him  as  a  boarder. 

An  hour  passed  very  quickly,  for  Loraine 
and  Mary  had  always  much  to  say  to  each 
other,  while  Mr.  Sedgewick  and  Madge  dis- 
cussed academy-affairs.  At  length  he  gave 
her  a  few  very  sincere  words  of  praise  in 
regard  to  her  success  as  a  teacher  this  first 
year,  and  seemed  honestly  glad  that  she  had 
not  refused  to  continue  in  the  school  the 
coming  term.  .  Madge  was  heartily  pleased 
with  this  appreciation  of  her  efforts.  She 
had  felt  an  undefined  uneasiness  in  regard 
to  Mr.  Sedgewick's  opinion  of  her  ever  since 
her  first  strongly-manifested  hostility  to  him 
while  she  supposed  that  he  had  unjustly 
supplanted  her  father.  In  all  their  school- 


GRANDMA    GREY'S  REMINISCENCES.     303 

relations  he  was  sufficiently  cordial,  but  he 
was  decidedly  more  unreserved  and  affable 
with  Loraine  and  Mary  Parker — even  with 
Ruth.  This  evening  he  came  out  in  a  new 
light.  After  a  while  he  declared  he  would 
"  talk  shop  no  longer,"  and  soon  the  whole 
party  were  discussing  a  picnic  to  be  planned 
for  the  week  after  school  closed. 


CHAPTEE   XVI. 

THE  PICNIC. 

"  Oh,  sweet,  lowly  graces  —  poverty  of  spirit,  meekness  —  thai 
grow  low  and  are  of  dark  hue  like  violets,  but  of  a  fragrant 
smell  !  These  are  prime  in  the  garland  of  a  Christian." 


rPHE  next  morning  Mrs.  Raynor  felt  so 
-*-  unusually  fatigued  that  Ruth  easily  per- 
suaded her  to  remain  in  bed.  The  young 
girl  brought  her  guest  a  tempting  little 
breakfast  and  served  it  to  her  in  French 
fashion,  with  many  amusing  allusions  to  the 
summer  when  they  traveled  together.  Then 
she  drew  down  the  curtain  and  left  Cousin 
Jane  to  take  a  longer  rest. 

There  was  a  good  deal  going  on  below 
stairs  that  morning,  and  until  dinner-time 
nobody  wondered  at  Mrs.  Raynor's  non- 
appearance;  then  Ruth  went  up  again,  and 
found  her  in  a  sleep  so  heavy  that  it  seemed 
unnatural.  Hardly  knowing  why,  she  called 
her  mother,  who  after  a  moment  said, 

304 


THE  PICNIC.  305 

"  She  breathes  as  if  she  were  not  resting 
comfortably,  and  I  think  I  had  better  waken 
her." 

This  proved  to  be  such  a  difficult  task 
that  the  watchers  were  getting  alarmed, 
when  Mrs.  Raynor  opened  her  eyes  and 
murmured  a  drowsy  excuse.  Mrs.  Preston 
in  turn  begged  pardon  for  breaking  her 
visitor's  slumbers,  but  explained  that  she 
had  moaned  in  her  sleep. 

"  I  feel  wretchedly,  but  after  I  have  a  cup 
of  tea  my  head  may  be  clearer.  I  have 
waked  up  before  several  times,  and  once  I 
did  not  seem  to  know  where  I  was,  or  much 
of  anything.  I  could  not  remember  Ruth's 
name  to  call  her." 

Ruth,  who  knew  Mrs.  Raynor's  voice 
better  than  her  mother,  looked  curiously  at 
Mrs.  Preston ;  for  it  seemed  to  the  young 
girl  that  Mrs.  Raynor  spoke  in  a  strangely 
thick,  slow  way.  Mrs.  Preston  did  not  per- 
ceive anything  peculiar,  and  so  Ruth  ran 
away  to  get  a  cup  of  tea. 

"Take  this  first,  and  then  I  will  help  you 
dress  to  come  down  stairs,"  she  exclaimed, 
on  returning ;  "  or  if  you  prefer,  let  me  bring 


306  THE  SILENT  MAN'S  LEGACY. 

your  dinner  to  you  and  don't  you  get  up  at 
all  to-day."  Half  in  fun,  she  propped  up 
Airs.  Raynor's  shoulders  with  a  pillow,  say- 
ing, "  I  practiced  so  long  with  mother  that  I 
know  just  the  right  angle  for  hot  tea." 

Mrs.  Ray  nor,  smiling,  took  the  pretty 
china  cup,  held  it  vibrating,  spilled  some  of 
its  contents,  and,  to  Ruth's  astonishment, 
carried  it  up  much  nearer  to  her  ear  than 
to  her  mouth. 

"Catch  it,  Ruth!"  said  the  lady, just  in 
time  to  save  her  neck  from  a  scalding. 
"  Something  ails  my  arm ;  it  seems  as  if  it 
were  asleep  yet." 

Again  Ruth  summoned  her  mother,  who 
now  suspected  the  truth — that  Mrs.  Raynor 
had  experienced  the  very  slightest  shock  of 
something  not  unlike  paralysis.  She  rubbed 
her  and  avoided  any  expression  of  her  fears, 
but  advised  sending  for  Dr.  Hickox.  Mrs. 
Raynor  was  too  dull  to  be  at  all  frightened, 
but  yielded  herself  passively  to  their  care; 
and  so  Johnny  was  at  once  despatched. 

The  doctor  confirmed  Mrs.  Preston's  opin- 
ion, but  said  the  attack  was  so  slight  that 
Cousin  Jane  might  scarcely  realize  its  results. 


THE  PICNIC.  307 

She  would  be  a  little  duller  mentally  and 
tremulous  physically.  She  would  gradually 
get  better  control  over  this  right  arm,  and 
perhaps  in  a  few  days  be  apparently  as  well 
as  before.  The  import  of  such  an  experi- 
ence was  not  its  immediate  effects,  but  rather 
was  it  to  be  recognized  as  prophetic  of  graver 
seizures  in  days  to  come.  He  said  he  would 
write  a  full  explanation  of  the  matter  to  Mr. 
Raynor,  and  they  could  soon  nurse  and 
cheer  her  back  to  a  semblance  of  health. 

For  a  day  or  two  Cousin  Jane  was  not 
like  herself  in  this  new  stupor  of  mind  and 
body,  but  before  a  week  had  passed  she  was 
up,  dressed  and  had  ridden  out.  She  moved 
more  slowly,  could  not  easily  go  up  and 
down  stairs  and  dropped  articles  that  she 
tried  to  lift  or  to  hold.  She  was  much  less 
talkative  and  drawled  her  words  a  little,  but 
she  herself  was  less  conscious  of  all  this 
than  was  any  one  else. 

Mr.  Kaynor  came  as  soon  as  he  received 
the  doctor's  letter,  and  was  greatly  troubled 
at  first,  but,  seeing  an  improvement  in  his 
wife's  condition  even  while  he  stayed,  he  de- 
parted hopeful  at  the  end  of  a  week.  Before 


308  THE  SILENT  MAN'S  LEGACY. 

he  left,  it  was  arranged,  greatly  to  Mrs.  Ray- 
nor's  satisfaction,  that  Bert  should  come  and 
devote  himself  to  her  for  the  remainder  of 
the  summer.  She  wanted  to  take  long  drives 
daily,  to  be  helped  in  and  out  of  carriages 
and  up  and  down  stairs  by  some  strong 
arm. 

"  It  will  be  very  nice  for  Cousin  Jane," 
remarked  Ruth  when  the  plan  was  an- 
nounced to  her  by  her  mother,  "  but,  moth- 
er, will  it  not  be  embarrassing  for  our  poor 
Madge?" 

"  Speak  to  her  about  it  and  see,"  replied 
her  mother,  smiling  quietly  to  herself. 

At  that  moment  Madge  was  heard  ap- 
proaching, singing  as  she  came.  With  con- 
siderable hesitation  and  some  circumlocution, 
Ruth  made  known  to  her  the  fact  of  Bert's 
expected  arrival. 

"Oh,  will  not  that  just  be  delightful?" 
exclaimed  Madge.  "  I  hope  he  will  get 
here  in  time  for  the  picnic  Wednesday ;  if  I 
thought  he  would  not,  I  would  write  a  note 
and  tell  him  to  hurry." 

"Why,  don't  you —  Wouldn't  he — " 
stammered  Ruth,  incoherently. 


THE  PICNIC.  309 

Madge  gave  her  sister  a  keen  look,  and 
laughingly  added, 

"Oh,  Bert  is  not  revengeful  one  single 
bit.  He  has  forgotten  all  that  nonsense,  just 
as  I  have,  and  we  shall  not  make  ourselves 
uncomfortable  over  a  trifle  like  that." 

"  No,  certainly  not,"  commented  Mrs. 
Preston,  with  that  queer  little  smile  which 
neither  girl  quite  understood. 

About  three  miles  from  Hempstead  was  a 
pretty  spot  called  "  The  Glen."  To  find  it 
one  turned  into  a  charming  lane  leading  from 
the  road  to  a  grove  thick  enough  in  its  cen- 
tre to  be  called  "  woods."  This  sloped  rap- 
idly down  to  a  gorge,  at  the  bottom  of  which 
rushed  a  wild  little  brook  which  once  might 
have  been  a  broad  river,  judging  from  the 
formation  of  the  mossy  rocks  on  each  side. 
The  whole  place  was  delightful,  for  in  the 
glen  were  spots  where  on  dry,  soft  turf  a 
large  company  could  assemble,  shaded  by 
great  oak  trees  and  having  an  outlook  along 
the  winding  gorge.  Elsewhere  were  deep 
hollows  filled  with  ferns,  cool,  damp  and 
green,  deeply-shaded,  and  again  twisting 


310  THE  SILENT  MAN'S  LEGACY. 

paths  roughly  trodden  through  tangled  un- 
derbrush into  sunnier  nooks  and  pretty 
haunts  of  wild  flowers,  bright  berries,  vines 
and  delicate  mosses. 

Madge  and  Mary  Parker  always  claimed 
that  they  discovered  the  Glen  and  its  "  pic- 
nic capacities,"  and  they  also  declared  that 
so  long  as  they  could  keep  its  delights  a 
secret  from  the  noisy  public  they  intended 
to  be  silently  selfish.  They  really  need  not 
have  worried  over  the  matter,  for  only  peo- 
ple who  loved  the  woods,  fields  and  wild  bits 
of  nature  were  ever  likely  to  leave  the  old 
picnic-grounds,  five  miles  farther,  where 
were  a  summer  hotel,  a  brass  band,  lawn 
tennis  and  a  saloon. 

It  was  an  exquisite  day  very  early  in  July 
when  "  our  picnic,"  as  Madge  called  it,  came 
off.  Only  the  Parkers,  the  Prestons,  the 
minister's  family,  Dr.  Hickox  and  a  few  of 
Johnny's  friends  were  going,  and  it  was  to  be 
the  most  informal  affair  imaginable.  About 
ten  o'clock  in  the  morning  the  procession 
started.  In  the  great  easy  carriage  belong- 
ing to  the  Parkers  were  Grandma  Grey, 
Judge  Parker  and  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Edgecomb ; 


THE  PICNIC.  311 

right  behind  them,  in  a  similar  carriage, 
Mrs.  Parker  and  Mrs.  Preston,  the  Professor 
and  Mr.  Sedgewick.  Mrs.  Raynor,  who  felt 
a  little  timid  with  "  intellectual  people  like 
ministers  and  teachers,"  as  she  confided  to 
Madge,  came  with  Madge,  Ruth,  Loraine, 
Mary  Parker  and  half  the  baskets  in  a 
curious  but  comfortable  old  vehicle  as  com- 
modious and  nearly  as  big  as  an  omnibus. 
Abby  lingered  on  the  doorstep  when  these 
last  departed  with  much  laughter  and  fun 
about  the  contents  of  the  hampers  stowed  in 
until  where  feet  should  go  became  a  puzzle. 

"See  here!"  shouted  old  Dr.  Hickox, 
driving  up  in  his  gig.  "  I  promised  to  get 
over  there  to  the  Gulch — or  whatever  Madge 
calls  her  camp-ground — in  time  for  dinner  ; 
but  the  sight  of  you  all  forlorn  just  turns 
my  stomach,  Abby.  If  you  stay  away,  I 
don't  want  to  go ;  I  should  be  miserable." 

"  Law,  now !  Don't  get  sentimental  at 
your  age,  doctor — don't,  now.  I'm  going 
fast  enough,  but  I'm  going  with  a  whole 
load  of  boys." 

"At  'your  age,'  Abby?  Why,  I'm  as- 
tonished !" 


312  THE  SILENT  MAN'S  LEGACY. 

"Six  of  'em,  at  the  very  least,"  said 
Abby ;  muttering,  "  Did  I,  or  did  I  not, 
put  mustard  in  the  Professor's  ham-sand- 
wiches ?" 

"  My  patient  was  in  that  last  carriage, 
wasn't  she?" 

"Yes,  and  she  is  improving  every  day 
now." 

"  Did  her  son  come  ?" 

"  No,  he  couldn't  get  here ;  but  he  is 
coming  to-morrow  or  the  next  day,"  replied 
Abby,  glad  to  see  the  old  doctor  prepare  to 
start  again :  she  and  the  boys  had  a  pri- 
vate enterprise  of  their  own.  She  hurried 
into  the  house,  packed  the  last  pie,  cake  and 
chicken  into  the  last  basket,  and  then  dressed 
herself  in  her  gala-attire. 

Ever  since  Ruth  and  Madge  came  to 
years  of  discretion  they  had  vainly  striven 
to  regulate  or  to  modify  Abby's  ideas  in 
regard  to  adornment  and  propriety  in  femi- 
nine attire.  They  had  given  up  the  effort, 
just  as  their  mother  before  them  had  given 
it  up,  for  scarlet,  orange  and  grass-green 
Abby  would  wear.  That  her  own  eyes, 
skin  and  hair  were  neutral  in  tint  was  to 


THE  PICNIC.  313 

her  an  added  reason  why  she  should  gratify 
her  love  for  brilliant  colors.  This  day  she 
wore  a  broad  straw  sun-hat  with  five  blood- 
red  .roses  on  its  apex ;  her  gown  was  a  pink- 
and-blue  plaid  gingham,  and  across  her 
broad  shoulders  was  a  royal  purple  shawl. 
When  she  appeared  in  the  door  again,  pre- 
paratory to  mounting  into  the  cart  where 
were  already  collected  the  six  boys,  she 
looked  like  a  slice  out  of  a  rainbow.  Never- 
theless, she  experienced  immediate  pleasure 
in  the  admiration  which  she  evoked  from 
those  same  benighted  boys,  every  one  of 
whom  was  her  firm  friend.  Now,  seeing 
her  so  new,  neat  and  glaring  in  costume, 
they  actually  told  her  that  she  looked  splen- 
didly, and,  worst  of  all,  they  did  not  know 
any  better. 

Johnny  drove — chiefly  because  he  was 
the  boy  who  knew  the  least  about  driving — 
and  the  rest  had  a  high  time  with  themselves 
and  with  Abby.  It  would  have  surprised 
the  advance-party  to  have  seen  them  at  a 
certain  point  turn  quite  off  the  road  taken 
by  the  others,  and,  still  more  remarkable, 
they  had  ridden  scarcely  a  mile  before,  with 


314  THE  SILENT  MAN'S  LEGACY. 

a  wild  whoop  of  "  Here  we  are  !"  every  boy 
of  them  leaped  to  the  ground  and  was  off. 

Abby,  left  alone,  folded  her  hands  in 
content,  studied  the  radiant  blue  sky,  said 
a  few  consolatory  things  to  the  patient  old 
horse  and  awaited  the  boys'  return.  They 
had  all  rushed  for  the  poorhouse,  and  not 
five  minutes  later  out  they  came  buzzing 
like  gigantic  flies  about  a  roughly-finished 
but  easy  rolling-chair,  which  they  propelled 
down  the  gravel- walk.  In  it  reclined  Moza, 
Abby's  orphan,  laughing  with  pure  delight. 
Three  months  after  Abby  had  found  him  in 
his  loneliness  she  had  stirred  up  such  an 
interest  respecting  him  in  Johnny  and  his 
friends  that  Moza  was  now  their  common 
property.  Johnny's  mechanical  ingenuity, 
their  united  contributions  and  the  poor- 
master's  co-operation  had  given  to  Moza  this 
chair.  With  his  uninjured  arms  he  could 
propel  it  about  the  house  and  grounds,  and 
the  comfort  he  took  in  this  way  was  inde- 
scribable. When  the  boys  proposed  to  take 
him  to  the  picnic,  Abby  gained  Mrs.  Pres- 
ton's instant  consent,  and  planned  to  give 
poor  Moza  a  treat  that  he  would  not  soon 


Abl.y's  Orphan. 


THE  PICNIC.  315 

forget.  Their  strong  hands  easily  managed 
chair  and  occupant,  so  that,  hoisting  him 
into  the  cart,  Moza  was  "  one  of  the  boys 
again  ;"  and  you  can  fancy  what  that  meant 
to  him.  He  talked  and  laughed,  but  all  the 
time  his  happy  eyes  took  in  the  familiar  land- 
scape, every  road,  house  and  bit  of  wood  had 
formerly  been  daily  seen  by  him.  Once  or 
twice  those  great  eyes  were  turned  on  Abby 
with  such  loving  gratitude  in  them  that,  as 
she  told  grandmother,  "  unless  she  sniveled 
right  out  she  had  to  do  something."  What 
she  did  was  to  bestow  a  delicious  great  bun 
on  Moza  because  he  was  "  delicate,"  and 
then  gleefully  to  enter  on  an  uproarious 
squabble  with  the  other  six,  who  vowed  they 
were  delicate  too  and  would  have  buns  un- 
limited. 

Moza  almost  choked  between  his  enjoy- 
ment of  the  bun  and  his  laughter  over  what 
seemed  to  him  the  very  wittiest  hilarity,  for 
society  in  the  poorhouse  was  decidedly  tame. 
Sometimes  in  his  gloomy  room  or  during  a 
season  when  he  was  suffering  unusual  pain, 
Abby  had  talked  to  him  of  holy  things  and 
divine  love  and  comfort  until  he  reverenced 


316  THE  SILENT  MAN'S  LEGACY. 

her  as  if  she  had  been  a  saint  with  a  visible 
halo  around  her  brow;  to-day  he  thought 
her  the  most  sunshiny,  lovable  human  be- 
ing on  the  face  of  this  earth  while  she  frol- 
icked away  under  the  shade  of  that  hat 
with  the  bouncing  red  roses.  It  was  so  very 
good,  too,  for  him  to  realize  not  only  that 
heaven  was  beautiful  and  the  next  life  desir- 
able, but  that  earth  was  still  a  place  for  sum- 
mers, birds'  song  and  merry  young  life. 

The  boys  were  not  in  a  bit  of  a  hurry  to 
get  anywhere  in  particular;  neither  was 
Abby,  so  long  as  it  was  not  dinner-time. 
Accordingly,  they  were  perpetually  leaping 
out  of  and  into  the  cart,  rushing  across  fields, 
stopping  for  drinks,  begging  cherries  and 
interviewing  wayfarers.  It  was  high  noon 
before  they  reached  the  Glen. 

Now,  what  need  is  there  to  describe  a  pic- 
nic in  detail  ?  There  was  something  delight- 
ful for  everybody  to  do  on  this  particular 
day,  and  each  one  did  what  seemed  good  in 
his  or  her  eyes.  The  older  ones  conversed 
together  in  cool,  fragrant  nooks  ;  the  boys, 
never  forgetting  Moza,  gave  themselves  up  to 
innocent  riot;  the  young  ladies  strolled 


THE  PICNIC.  317 

about  exploring  pretty  places  until  Abby 
arrived  and  the  hampers  must  be  unpacked. 

Just  as  the  air  began  to  be  perfumed  with 
the  odor  of  coffee  old  Dr.  Hickox  came. 
He  declared  that  he  was  "  afar  '  off  on  a 
country  road,  forgetful  of  the  picnic,  until, 
smelling  that  coffee,"  he  remembered  the 
Gulch ;  and  "  gulch "  he  would  call  it  on 
purpose  to  tease  Madge,  who  thought  "  glen" 
a  beautiful  word.  She  could  not,  however, 
stop  to  have  her  usual  playful  squabble  with 
him,  for  the  young  people  were  marshaled 
about  by  Abby  just  then  and  made  to  put 
final  touches  to  the  feast,  to  seat  their  elders 
first  and  then  to  make  themselves  useful. 
But  there  was  an  instant  revolt  against  any 
respect  of  persons,  the  older  ones  begging 
that  Abby  would  not  insist  on  too  much 
style  in  table- waiting,  but  would  let  every- 
body help  his  neighbor ;  so  all  camped  about 
the  long  snowy  cloth,  and  the  delicious  viands 
vanished  amid  much  merry  conversation  and 
laughter. 

The  boys  were  together  at  one  end,  around 
Moza,  whose  big  black  eyes  shone  with  so 
much  happiness  that  it  was  delightful  to 


318  THE  SILENT  MAN'S  LEGACY. 

watch  him.  This  was  for  him  a  day  of  un- 
alloyed pleasure;  and  when  the  old  doctor 
discovered  him,  an  hour  or  two  after  dinner, 
he  gave  him  a  new  hope  to  make  his  future 
bright. 

"  Hello,  Moza !  This  is  good  !"  exclaimed 
the  old  man,  looking  him  well  over;  and 
then,  desirous  to  see  more  of  his  happiness, 
he  said,  "  You  look  surprisingly  better,  my 
boy,  than  you  did  before  your  father  died. 
Doesn't  the  county-house  doctor  tell  you  so  ?" 

"  He  does  not  examine  me  very  often," 
replied  Moza. 

Dr.  Hickox  put  out  his  hand,  rolled 
Moza's  chair  quite  out  of  sight  of  the  rest, 
behind  a  thick  clump  of  bushes,  and  pro- 
ceeded to  make  an  examination  of  his  back 
and  limbs. 

"  You  are  better — much  better  ;  and  the 
fact  that  you  have  regained  any  power  at  all 
over  those  limbs  shows  that  with  proper 
treatment  you  will  have  more.  I  can't  say 
you  will  ever  be  well  again — that  is,  'as  good 
as  new ' — but  I  believe  that  you  can  be  up  and 
about  among  men  by  the  help  of  one  crutch," 
were  the  doctor's  words,  adding,  as  he  studied 


THE  PICNIC.  319 

the  boy's  attractive  face,  "  You  need  not  think 
you  are  going  to  be  left  in  that  house  much 
longer.  Abby  has  been  at  me  and  I  have 
been  at  the  town  authorities,  and  in  a 
month's  time  at  the  farthest  we  will  have 
you  out  and  at  your  aunt's.  There  is  far  too 
good  stuff  in  you,  my  boy,  to  waste  in  a 
pauper." 

When  the  doctor  had  rolled  him  back, 
Moza  sent  the  boys,  who  were  reluctant  to 
leave  him,  for  the  wild  racing  and  tumbling 
down-hill,  up-stream  and  through  woods 
which  they  secretly  longed  for.  This  he 
knew,  and  so  he  assured  them  that  he  wanted 
them  to  go,  because  he  was  perfectly  content 
to  be  in  the  midst  of  all  the  sights  and 
sounds  of  out- door  life.  Moreover,  Abby 
was  there  to  amuse  him,  and  every  one  had 
cheering  words  for  him.  The  minister  sat 
by  him  a  long  time ;  and  if  the  rest  did  not 
hear  all  that  was  said,  they  knew  by  the 
light  on  Moza's  face  and  the  tenderness  on 
Mr.  Edgecomb's  own  that  they  were  having 
a  talk  of  Him  who  is  the 

"  Hope  of  every  contrite  heart — 
The  joy  of  all  the  meek." 


320  THE  SILENT  HAN'S  LEGACY. 

Shortly  after  dinner  Mary  Parker  and 
Madge  started  for  a  stroll  through  the 
Glen. 

"  It  is  useless  for  you  to  run  away  from 
us,"  called  Mr.  Sedgewick.  "  Miss  Faye  will 
not  be  left  alone,  and  it  is  a  necessity  that  I 
go  along  as  a  snake-chaser.  I  never  knew  a 
lady  to  go  a  rod's  distance  over  ground  like 
this  without  hearing  a  rattle  or  seeing  a  cop- 
perhead— possibly  a  boa-constrictor  if  the 
dead  twig  was  particularly  dreadful  in  ap- 
pearance." 

"  After  such  a  remark  you  ought  to  be 
forbidden  to  come  one  step  with  us,"  said 
Mary  Parker,  severely.  "  I  would  like  to 
cast  insinuations  on  your  own  courage." 

"  You  may.  I  think  it  likely,  if  we  do 
see  a  boa-constrictor,  that  I  should  climb  a 
tree  and  shout  '  Shoo !  Shoo !'  as  wildly  as 
you  did  when  the  Bradley  cow  would  not 
get  off  the  walk  one  day.  I  never  learned 
to  fight  menagerie  creatures — outside  school- 
hours,  at  least." 

"  Isn't  he  growing  frivolous  since  vacation 
began  ?"  asked  Mary. 

"And  I  went  to  your  house  to  board,"  put 


THE  PICNIC.  321 

in  Mr.  Sedge  wick,  overtaking  them  and 
joining,  not  Mary,  but  Madge.  He  had 
resolved  to  remove,  if  possible,  the  stiffness 
that  always  made  itself  felt  in  his  association 
with  the  latter  young  lady.  She  was  unre- 
served with  everybody  else;  perhaps  she 
thought  him  only  a  prim  pedagogue  incapa- 
ble of  unbending.  It  was  odd  that  with  both 
Mary  Parker  and  Loraine  he  could  at  any 
time  drop  into  fun,  banter  or  a  merry  war 
of  words,  but  with  Madge  he  was  forced  to 
be  as  grave  as  the  Professor  himself. 

"Mr.  Sedgewick,"  exclaimed  Loraine, 
"  do  you  know — but  of  course  you  don't — 
this  is  the  anniversary  of  our  first  meeting, 
when—" 

"Oh  how  flattered  I  feel !  It  marked  an 
era  in  your — " 

"It  did  not.  At  least,  my  meeting  you 
was  not  the  chief  thing,  but  the  way  1  met 
you  was  very  embarrassing,  and  the  date  I 
remember  because  it  was  the  beginning  of 
my  life  in  Hempstead." 

"  Miss  Preston,"  said  Mr.  Sedgewick,  with 
a  teasing  glance  at  Loraine,  "  I  should  think 
Miss  Faye  would  be  embarrassed  to  recall  her 
21 


322  THE  SILENT  MAN'S  LEGACY. 

wild  conduct.  We  know  how  unconven- 
tional and  romantic  she  is,  because  now  she 
lias  been  with  us  ten  months  in  the  academy  ; 
but  then  it  was  such  a  shock  to  me  to  find  a 
young  woman  taking  trains  at  random  over 
any  railroad  that  she  happened  to  see,  and 
with  only  two  cents  in  her  pocket.  Or  did 
you  have  three  and  a  brass  check  ?" 

"  No ;  the  check  was  stolen,"  laughed 
Loraine,  "  but  not  the  trunk,  fortunately." 

"  I  have  often  wondered  what  would  have 
become  of  her  if  she  had  not  suddenly  seen 
that  benevolence  in  my  face  which  inspired 
her  with  such  unbounded  confidence — " 

"  Nonsense !  I  was  as  afraid  of  you  as  I 
could  be  until  you  found  out  that  I  was 
coming  to  Hempstead  and  told  me  you  had 
visited  Professor  Preston.  I  knew  no  scamp 
could  be  an  acquaintance  of  his;  so  you 
went  forward  simply  on  another  man's  re- 
spectability," cried  Loraine,  warmly. 

"  Well,  well ! — Miss  Preston,  don't  you 
think  she  might  have  given  your  father 
credit  for  something  beyond  'respectabil- 
ity '  ?"  continued  Mr.  Sedgewick  ;  and  so  the 
careless  talk  went  on  as  the  party  walked 


THE  PICNIC.  323 

leisurely  down  a  pretty  path  arched  over 
with  maple  trees  and  leading  to  the  noisy 
little  stream  below.  Once  down  there, 
Mary  and  Loraine  lingered  to  watch  the 
boys,  who  had  captured  a  great  mud-turtle. 

Mr.  Sedgewick  suddenly  remembered  a 
curious  formation  of  rock  quite  down  the 
stream,  and  showed  a  desire  to  conduct 
Madge  to  it  without  waiting  to  summon 
the  others.  Madge  called,  but  they  did 
not  respond ;  so  she  followed  her  guide.  The 
rocks  were  mildly  interesting,  and  Mr.  Sedge- 
wick  was  a  good  talker  on  geology  or  on 
almost  any  other  subject.  He  secretly  exert- 
ed himself  to  be  entertaining,  until  Madge 
grew  animated  herself,  and  they  described 
a  wide  circle  around  the  woods  before  they 
rejoined  the  picnic-party. 

When  Mary  Parker  had  sufficiently  ad- 
mired the  turtle's  points  as  shown  off  by  his 
enthusiastic  captors,  she  carelessly  remarked 
to  Loraine  as  she  glanced  after  their  late 
companions, 

"  See !  they  are  far  ahead.     Let  us  go  on." 

"  No ;  let  us  not  go  on." 

"Why,   you   are   not    provoked    at   Mr. 


324  THE  SILENT  MAN'S  LEGACY. 

Sedgewick,  are  you,  Loraine?  He  was 
entirely  in  fun.  Since  he  came  to  our 
house  we  are  always  teasing  each  other  about 
something." 

"  I  know  Mr.  Sedgewick  as  I  would  know 
my  own  brother  if  I  had  one,  and  like  him 
almost  as  heartily  as  I  should  like  a  brother. 
You  don't  know  him,  Mary,  or  else  you  are 
a  trifle  stupid  all  of  a  sudden." 

The  bewilderment  in  Mary's  face  matched 
in  a  most  comical  way  the  amusement  in 
Loraine's. 

"  Yes,  you  are  almost  as  dull  as  Madge 
herself.  But  then  you  are  not  in  school,  so 
your  '  wision  is  limited/  as  Sammy  Weller 
said,  to  times  like  to-day." 

Mary  still  stared  in  speechless  meditation 
on  Loraine's  seemingly  incomprehensible 
talk ;  but  when  once  more  Loraine  glanced 
smilingly  after  the  geologically-inclined 
couple,  now  still  farther  in  advance,  a  light 
broke  in  and  she  exclaimed, 

"O-h-h!" 

"  Exactly." 

"  I  wonder—" 

"  So  do  I,  and  approve." 


THE  PICNIC.  325 

"Yes;  there  is  no  question  about  loiter- 
ing with  the  mud-turtle.  If  he  does  not 
actually  want  us,"  laughed  Mary,  "  he  is  not 
wishing  us  present. — Oh,  Mr.  Sedgewick,  I 
never  thought  it  of  you — never !" 

After  a  brief  silence  Mary  said, 

"I  think  Madge  has  greatly  improved 
this  winter;  she  is  not  so  restless  and  de- 
sirous for  excitement.  Once  or  twice  she 
has  surprised  me  by  acting  as  reasonably  as 
Ruth  herself  in  circumstances  where  once 
she  would  have  done  something  erratic,  if 
not  reprehensible." 

"  Yes ;  ever  since  Madge  came  from  New 
York  she  has  been  different — has  shown 
this  'sweet  reasonableness,'  as  you  might 
well  call  it.  I  had  an  idea  that  New  York 
would  demoralize  her." 

"  Was  it  not  her  mother's  narrow  escape 
from  death  that  quieted  her  down,  rather 
than  the  city  visit?"  asked  Mary,  linking 
her  arm  in  Loraine's  as  they  started  up  the 
bank  again. 

"  Possibly.  One  thing  is  certain  :  within 
the  last  six  months  Madge  appreciates  her 
home  as  she  never  did  appreciate  it  before. 


326  THE  SILENT  MAN'S  LEGACY. 

She  used  to  seem  to  me  both  deaf  and 
blind." 

"  I  suppose  their  uncle  Henry's  legacy 
has  enabled  them  to  enjoy  certain  things 
denied  them  before." 

"Oh  yes;  but,  while  that  is  all  true, 
Mary,  this  is  certain  :  money  never  made — 
as  the  lack  of  it  never  marred — the  real 
happiness  of  that  family-life.  I  could  not 
understand  any  one  of  them  but  Madge 
when  I  first  went  there;  in  her  discontent 
was  an  element  that  I  recognized  from  ac- 
quaintance with  self,  but  their  restfulness 
was  doubly  attractive." 

"  Have  you  found  out  their  secret  ?"  asked 
Mary,  with  a  glance  at  Loraine's  noble  face, 
which  assuredly  had  acquired  serenity  in 
this  last  year. 

"  Yes,  I  believe  I  have ;  but  grandmother 
told  it  to  me  first," 

"  By  a  Bible  verse  going  hand  in  hand 
with  a  Bunyan  quotation,  was  it  not  ?" 

"  No  ;  I  think  it  was  the  Gospel  according 
to  Leigh  ton.  You  know  Leigh  ton  is  Bunyan 's 
rival  in  her  affections.  One  day  soon  after 
I  came  Abby  was  out  West,  Mrs.  Preston 


THE  PICNIC.  327 

was  ill  with  a  headache  and  poor  grand- 
mother looked  tired  out,  but  as  angelic  as 
ever.  '  What  is  the  reason  that  when  every- 
thing goes  wrong  in  this  house  there  is  never 
a  domestic  panic,  a  season  of  scolding  or 
worry  or  blueness  at  least?'  was  the  plain 
question  that  I  put  to  the  old  lady.  She 
beamed  on  me  a  minute,  picked  up  a  worn- 
out  little  book  and  read  me  this,  which  I  have 
copied  out  since:  'The  flower  which  fol- 
lows the  sun  does  so  even  in  cloudy  days ; 
when  it  doth  not  shine  forth,  yet  it  follows 
the  hidden  course  and  motion  of  it.  So 
the  soul  that  moves  after  God  keeps  that 
course  when  he  hides  his  face,  is  content — 
yea,  is  glad — at  his  will  in  all  estates  or  con- 
ditions or  events. ' ' 

"Well,  it  stands  to  reason  that  a  Chris- 
tian family  believing  and  acting  on  such 
principles  must  be  a  family  with  a  home 
ideally  and  really  beautiful,"  said  Mary ; 
adding,  a  minute  after,  "  Thank  God  I  have 
had  a  home  in  a  measure  like  that !" 

"  I  never  had  one,  but  God  was  good 
enough  to  open  a  door  for  me  into  this  one ; 
and  if  ever  in  years  to  come  I  have  one  of 


328  THE  SILENT  MAN'S  LEGACY. 

my  own,  '  as  for  me  and  my  house  we  will 
serve  the  Lord,' "  said  Loraine  the  child  of 
an  infidel. 

When  they  reached  the  top  of  the  bank 
and  retraced  their  way  through  the  woods, 
Mary  suddenly  exclaimed, 

"Why,  where  is  Ruth  all  this  time? 
The  idea  of  running  away  from  her !  What 
will  she  think  of  us  ?" 

"  I  waited  a  little  for  her,  but  she  said  she 
wanted  to  do  something  for  somebody,  as 
usual,  and  told  me  to  go  on  and  she  would 
follow.  Perhaps  she  has  joined  Madge." 

The  mention  of  Madge  made  Mary  smile, 
saying, 

"  Once  or  twice  it  has  crossed  my  mind  that 
the  quiet,  scholarly  Mr.  Sedgewick  might 
find  a  congenial  spirit  in  the  shy,  elusive 
Ruth.  He  has  asked  a  good  many  indirect 
questions  about  the  Misses  Preston,  I  now 
remember,  and  I  have  dwelt  at  length  on 
Ruth's  perfections." 

"Never  mind;  he  has  been  quite  equal, 
no  doubt,  to  finding  out  Madge's  for  him- 
self," laughed  Loraine. 

"  Oh  how  stupid  I  have  been !"   energet- 


THE  PICNIC.  329 

ically  exclaimed  Mary.  "  This  is  why  he 
stays  here  all  his  vacation !  He  told  me 
last  fall  that  he  was  going  to  tramp  through 
the  Catskills  this  summer." 

"Softly,  softly,  Mary!  You  must  not 
breathe  one  word  of  my  romantic  insinua- 
tions; just  wait  and  see.  There  was  never 
a  person  whose  movements  or  emotions  it 
was  harder  to  predict  than  those  of  Madge 
Preston.  Why,  see!  they  are  breaking 
camp  and  getting  ready  to  go  home." 

"And  it  is  actually  half-past  five,"  ex- 
claimed Mary,  hastening  her  steps. 

The  boys  brought  up  the  carriages,  the 
ladies  collected  their  napkins,  dishes,  baskets 
and  extra  wraps,  Abby  filled  a  basket  with 
dainties  for  Moza  to  share  with  his  friends 
in  the  poorhouse,  and  finally  everybody  was 
ready  to  depart. 

Mr.  Sedge  wick  and  Madge  were  late  in 
arriving  on  the  scene  of  action,  so  that  the 
order  of  departure,  as  regards  the  occu- 
pants of  the  different  vehicles,  was  alto- 
gether changed.  It  made  no  difference, 
however,  as  everybody  was  provided  with 
pleasant  companions. 


CHAPTER    XVII. 

RUTH'S   ADVENTURE. 

"  The  child  leans  on  its  parent's  breast, 
Leaves  there  its  cares,  and  is  at  rest ; 
The  bird  sits  singing  by  his  nest 

And  tells  aloud 

His  trust  in  God,  and  so  is  blest 
'Neath  every  cloud." 

ISAAC  WILLIAMS. 

IF  Ruth  had  not  been  at  all  conspicuous, 
no  one  had  any  more  enjoyed  the  picnic, 
and  no  one  seemed  more  essential  to  the 
others'  comfort.  Abby  was  not  satisfied 
with  the  appearance  of  her  table  until  Ruth 
said  that  it  was  all  right  in  every  particular ; 
grandmother  had  to  trust  to  Ruth  to  find 
her  a  nook  where  the  ground  was  free  from 
"  damp  ;"  the  boys  wanted  Ruth's  admiration 
bestowed  on  their  peculiar  outfit  for  fishing ; 
the  old  doctor  wanted  to  joke  Ruth,  and  the 
minister's  wife  to  pet  her ;  and  she  happened 
about  in  her  father's  vicinity  just  in  time  to 

330 


RUTH'S  ADVENTURE,  331 

prevent  his  investigating  a  hornets'  nest : 
the  Professor  was  much  more  familiar  with 
schoolrooms  than  with  glens.  After  dinner 
she  lingered  by  Cousin  Jane,  amusing  her 
when  the  others  discussed  a  book  of  which 
Ruth  shrewdly  guessed  her  cousin  had 
never  heard.  But  after  a  while  Mrs.  Parker 
and  Mrs.  Ray  nor  hit  upon  a  topic  of  mutual 
interest,  and  Ruth,  who  was  exceedingly 
fond  of  roaming  the  woods,  gladly  found 
herself  free  to  enjoy  them  to  the  utmost. 
She  missed  Mr.  Sedge  wick  and  Madge,  who 
were  not  especially  loud  in  their  conversa- 
tion ;  she  did  not  take  the  right  course  to 
meet  Loraine  and  Mary,  but  she  did  join 
the  boys  for  a  half  hour's  frolic  a  mile  up- 
stream. Then,  not  at  all  sorry  to  be  alone, 
she  hung  her  hat  on  her  arm  and  wandered 
where  she  would,  gathering  ferns,  moss  and 
wild  flowers,  listening  to  the  various  birds' 
notes,  peeping  after  nimble  squirrels  who 
were  fleeing  into  leafy  coverts,  happier  her- 
self than  any  other  of  God's  creatures  there 
rejoicing  in  sunshine  and  liberty.  Not,  by 
any  means,  that  Ruth  was  for  ever  thinking 
of  unseen  things,  of  religious  things  or  of 


332  THE  SILENT  MAN'S  LEGACY. 

her  own  self;  she  was  not.  This  day  her 
thoughts  were  just  a  part  of  the  beautiful 
wood-life  around  her,  all  tangled  in  as  it 
were  with  the  sunshine  spread  like  a  golden 
net  across  the  moss  and  leaves  under  the 
arching  trees.  "A  heart  at  leisure  from 
itself"  can  best  joy  in  such  scenes. 

Naturally  enough,  Ruth  forgot  the  flight 
of  time,  and,  straying  farther,  stayed  away 
longer  than  even  Mary  and  Loraine.  When, 
at  last,  the  tree-shadows  on  the  grass  suggest- 
ed to  her  that  the  sun  must  be  low,  she 
hurried  back  to  the  party.  She  heard  their 
voices  a  long  time  before  she  came  in  sight 
of  the  picnic-ground.  What  was  her  sur- 
prise, on  issuing  from  the  thick  shrubbery 
around  about  this  last-named  spot,  to  find  it 
entirely  deserted  !  It  was  as  if  the  earth 
had  opened  and  swallowed  up  every  trace  of 
the  picnickers.  No,  not  exactly  that,  either, 
for  traces  of  them  abounded  in  eggshells, 
brown  paper,  orange-skins  and  the  peanut- 
shells  that  marked  Johnny's  course.  Gazing 
off  in  amazement,  Ruth  saw  far  down  the 
dusty  road,  beyond  all  call,  a  short  procession 
of  carriages  rolling  briskly  homeward.  It 


RUTH'S  ADVENTURE.  333 

took  a  moment  or  two  for  her  to  realize  that 
they  had  actually  gone  and  left  her,  hut,  the 
truth  once  borne  into  her  mind,  she  sat  down 
on  a  stump  and  laughed  until  a  fat  robin 
perked  his  head  at  her  as  if  to  ask,  "Are  you 
right  in  your  wits,  young  woman  ?" 

"It  is  six  o'clock,  just,"  she  said  to  herself, 
studying  her  watch.  "  They  will  not  know 
that  I  am  left  here  until  they  get  home,  per- 
haps ;  that  will  not  be  before  a  quarter-past 
seven.  Then,  if  somebody  drives  back  some- 
what faster,  I  shall  be  rescued  before  or 
about  eight  o'clock.  Well,  my  position  is 
by  no  means  perilous ;  no  wild  beasts  abound. 
If  I  am  utterly  forgotten  by  my  short-sighted 
relatives,  I  can  walk  half  a  mile  across  the 
fields  to  that  red  farmhouse  and  spend  the 
night.  I  don't  look  like  a  tramp,  at  any 
rate;"  and  she  glanced  down  at  the  neat 
blue  cambric  dress  that  she  had  worn  to 
please  Loraine — a  dress  that  made  her 
cheeks  like  apple-blossoms  and  her  hair  like 
spun  gold. 

Even  when  the  sun  went  down,  the  air 
was  not  chilly;  and  so  Ruth,  being  tired 
with  the  day's  pleasure,  sat  quiet,  singing 


334  THE  SILENT  MAN'S  LEGACY. 

softly  to  herself,  laughing  as  she  fancied  the 
dismay,  when  the  party  reached  home,  to 
find  her  "lost,  strayed  or  stolen,"  and  after  a 
time  watching  the  main  road  for  a  returning 
friend  or  relative.  A  number  of  teams 
passed,  and  after  it  grew  late  Ruth  screened 
herself  from  view.  She  had  thought  that  there 
might  be  going  into  town  some  farmer  or  per- 
son known  to  her  to  whom  she  could  apply, 
but  all  the  carts  and  carriages  were  coming 
from  town  at  that  time  of  day.  She  was 
not  afraid ;  but  when  the  birds  went  to  roost 
in  the  darkening  woods  and  the  silence  was 
unbroken  save  by  the  lonesome  sounds  made 
by  the  insects,  Ruth  was  almost  sorry  that 
she  had  not  gone  at  once  to  the  farmhouse. 
What  if  by  some  strange  inadvertence  her 
absence  were  not  discovered  for  several 
hours?  Startled  by  the  thought  of  staying 
there  until  it  was  actually  night,  she  rose  to 
her  feet  and  resolved  to  go  immediately  to 
the  distant  farmhouse.  She  drew  back  at 
the  sound  of  wheels,  and,  seeing  a  young 
man  with  a  fast  horse  dashing  past,  she  hid 
again  behind  a  great  bush.  Scarcely  had  he 
passed,  and  Ruth,  trembling  a  little  with  ner- 


RUTH'S  ADVENTURE.  335 

vousness  again,  had  hurried  toward  the  road, 
when  the  horse  and  carriage  wheeled  rapidly 
around  and  the  driver  stood  up  and  shouted 
at  the  silent  woods  : 

"  Ruth !    Ruth  Preston  !    Are  you  there  ?" 

Whoever  the  person  was,  he  had  been 
sent  for  Ruth  ;  so  she  crept  through  a  gap 
in  the  rail  fence,  ran  noiselessly  along  the 
dewy  grass,  and  was  by  the  carriage-step 
just  as  the  young  man,  straightening  for  a 
mighty  effort,  roared,  "  Ruth !  Ruth  Pres- 
ton !"  in  a  voice  that  verily  might  have 
penetrated  to  the  red  farmhouse  far,  far  over 
the  fields. 

"  Yes,  but  I  am  not  at  all  deaf,"  was  the 
silvery  utterance  that  brought  the  astonished 
shouter  to  the  knowledge  of  the  fact  that 
Ruth's  little  foot  was  on  the  carriage-step. 
She  had  recognized  Bert  Ray  nor  the  mo- 
merit  he  opened  his  mouth.  Such  war- 
whoops  were,  indeed,  more  familiar  to  her 
than  were  his  now  customary  and  well-mod- 
ulated tones. 

"  Why,  my  dear  little  cousin !"  he  ex- 
claimed, grasping  her  hand  to  help  her  into 
the  carriage.  "  If  this  is  not  the  most  out- 


3o6  THE  SILENT  MAX'S  LEGACY. 

rageous  treatment  for  you  to  undergo  at  the 
hands  of  your  own  family !  Do  you  think 
you  are  all  here  now  ?  I  left  at  least  a  dozen 
women  weeping,  tearing  their  hair  and  de- 
claring that  I  would  find  you  devoured  by 
wild  animals,  frozen,  starved,  gone  crazy 
with  terror,  if  not  scalped  by  Indians.  And 
how  is  your  health,  any  way,  Ruth  ?" 

Laughingly  at  Bert's  vehemence,  Ruth 
shook  his  once-more-proffered  hand  and 
assured  him  that  she  was  unharmed  and  in 
her  right  mind. 

"Were  you  not  frightened-?" 

"  I  began  to  be  a  little  lonesome  and  to 
wish  I  had  a  sister  Anne  here  to  help  watch 
for  the  cloud  of  dust." 

"And  because  you  took  me  for  a  Blue- 
beard you  let  me  pass  you  without  knowing 
that  you  were  there?" 

"  Exactly.  I  hid  behind  an  elderberry 
bush  until  you —  Well,  not  to  mince  mat- 
ters,— howled,"  she  replied,  gayly. 

"Didn't  I?  Well,  I  found  you.  Now, 
why  don't  you  ask  how  it  falls  out  that  I  am 
your  preserver — the  knight  who  rushed  to 
your  rescue?" 


RUTH'S  ADVENTURE.  337 

"  I  suppose,  so  far  as  I  have  had  a  moment 
to  reflect,  that  you  came  because  you  were 
on  the  spot  when  they  discovered  that  I  had 
been  mislaid — left  behind  with  the  orange- 
skins  and  the  eggshells.  We  expected  that 
you  would  put  in  an  appearance  yesterday, 
and  hoped  that  you  would  be  here  for  this 
picnic." 

"  If  I  had  come,  you  would  not  have  been 
treated  so  shabbily.  I  always  count  the 
members  of  my  family  wTien  I  bring  them 
home  for  the  night.  But  really,  Ruth,  this 
is  a  queer  way  to  meet  you.  Madge  has 
given  me  such  a  very  exalted  idea  of  your 
dignity  and  your  general  superiority  to  the 
rest  of  us  poor  mortals  that  I  planned  to 
enter  your  presence  in  the  most  decorous 
style  with  some  exceedingly  wise  sentiment 
on  my  lips." 

"Well,  I  can  assure  you  that  I  am  just 
now  twice  as  glad  to  see  you  as  I  could  have 
been  in  almost  any  other  circumstances. 
Your  old-time  yell  was  sweeter  in  my  ears 
than  a  quotation  from  Marcus  Aurelius 
would  have  been." 

"  Then    I   am   perfectly  content   to  have 


338  THE  SILENT  MAN'S  LEGACY. 

come  hooting  and  howling  upon  the  stage," 
laughed  Bert. 

"  Did  you  not  find  your  mother  looking 
better  than  your  father  gave  you  reason  to 
suppose  she  looks  ?  We  think  that  she  has 
improved  rapidly  in  the  days  since  he  went 
away." 

"  I  am  glad  indeed  to  hear  you  say  that. 
In  the  excitement  to-night  over  your  loss 
she  was  naturally  .very  animated;  I  should 
not  have  seen  any  difference  if  I  had  not 
been  watching  closely  to  detect  how  she  had 
changed.  She  came  up  stairs  with  difficulty. 
Poor  mother !  I  can't  bear  to  think  of  her 
breaking  up  in  health  while  she  is  still  a 
comparatively  young  woman." 

"  Dr.  Hickox  speaks  very  encouragingly 
about  her  case." 

"  For  the  present.  But  I  fear  another 
and  a  worse  attack."  replied  Bert,  sadly,  all 
the  lightness  gone  from  his  manner  now; 
and  Ruth,  for  the  first  time  looking  in  his 
face,  discovered  there  a  strength  and  an  at- 
tractive manliness  which  had  been  undevel- 
oped in  the  boy  Bert,  best  known  to  her. 
"  Yes,  I  must  be  good  to  her  in  these  days, 


RUTH'S  ADVENTURE.  339 

for  she  has  been  a  dear,  good  mother  to  me," 
lie  added,  tenderly. 

"I  am  glad  that  she  does  not  seem  at  all 
despondent  about  herself,"  said  Ruth. 

"  Father  thinks  that  she  does  not  under- 
stand the  gravity  of  that  attack,  and  I  hope 
that  she  does  not.  I  rejoice  to  know  that 
she  is  here  among  such  kind,  cheerful  peo- 
ple. If  she  were  at  a  summer  hotel,  I 
should  feel  very  sorry  for  her.  Mother  has 
not  cared  very  much  this  past  year  for  the 
things  that  she  used  most  to  enjoy — society 
and  travel  and  in  a  mild  way  what  you 
might  call  fashion.  She  has  often  seemed 
lonely ;  and  when  your  mother's  invitation 
came,  she  welcomed  it  heartily.  She  has 
written  me  since  she  arrived  of  how  calm 
and  restful  it  seems  here,  and  of  what  a 
lovely  old  saint  Grandmother  Grey  is.  I 
knew  that  well  enough  before." 

"  Yes,  she  has  spent  a  great  deal  of  time 
in  long  serious  talks  with  grandmother." 

"  It  is  hard  for  me,"  said  Bert,  gently,  "  to 
think  that  my  own  mother  could  be  any  bet- 
ter or  needs  to  be,  but  I  have  thought  if  she 
could  come  out  the  kind  of  a  Christian  that 


340  THE  SILENT  MAN'S  LEGACY. 

your  grandmother  and  your  mother  and — 
I  think — that  you  are  yourself,  Ruth,  why 
then  perhaps  her  own  life  would  be  more 
satisfying  and  she  would  feel  less  lonely." 

"  Grandmother  told  me  something  last 
night  that  you  will  be  pleased  to  hear,"  said 
Ruth.  "  Your  mother  likes  our  minister,  Mr. 
Edgecomb,  very  much,  and  a  few  days  ago 
she  told  him  that  she  wanted  to  confess  her 
faith  in  Christ  at  the  next  communion  in 
our  church.  She  said  that  you  joined  this 
church,  and  that  that  was  a  reason  for  her 
uniting  with  Mr.  Edgecomb's  people." 

It  was  quite  dark  now,  yet  some  way 
Ruth  knew  there  were  tears  in  Bert's  eyes 
when  he  answered  huskily : 

"  I  have  been  a  poor  specimen  for  mother 
to  study,  Ruth,  and  sometimes  I  have 
thought  that  I  had  no  business  to  call  my- 
self a  Christian ;  but  this  I  know — that  at 
that  time  I  was  sincere  in  wishing  to  follow 
Christ,  and  I  believed  that  I  loved  him. 
Later  I  was  not  sure  of  anything.  About 
a  year  ago  I  began  to  get  ashamed  of  my- 
self; I  think  it  was  a  healthy  symptom.  I 
read  my  Bible  and  let  Darwin  and  Huxley 


RUTH'S  ADVENTURE.  341 

alone.  I  began  to  pray  and  fool  away  less 
time,  and  I  have  got  now  where  life  seems 
worth  living." 

"I  am  so  glad  for  you,"  said  a  voice 
which  Bert  thought  wonderfully  sweet  and 
sympathetic. 

Five  minutes  more,  and  Ruth  and  Bert 
were  received  by  the  assembled  family  with  a 
perfect  uproar  of  excuses,  greetings,  expla- 
nations, laughter,  and  even  tears ;  for  Grand- 
mother Grey  feared  that  her  precious  Ruth 
would  feel  "  so  hurt  to  be  forgotten  and  left 
in  the  woods."  She  meekly  begged  pardon 
for  her  share  in  the  naughty  deed,  and  was 
comforted  only  by  a  hug  and  with  the  assur- 
ance that  "  the  woods  were  lovely  at  sunset," 
and  that  Ruth  had  enjoyed  her  ride  home 
with  Bert  very  much  indeed. 

Abby  had  spread  a  tempting  supper,  of 
which  no  one  had  partaken  during  the  time 
that  Bert  was  absent  in  search  of  Ruth,  but 
now,  happy  and  hungry,  everybody  ate, 
talked  and  laughed. 

Madge,  seated  by  Bert,  rattled  on  in  her 
merriest  mood,  as  much  at  ease  as  if  a  cer- 
tain episode  were  a  matter  of  years  past  and 


342  THE  SILENT  MAN'S  LEGACY. 

of  no  account  any  way.  Bert  in  his  heart 
fully  agreed  with  Madge,  if  such  were  her 
opinion  of  bygone  events.  He  answered 
some  of  her  sallies  and  paid  far  more  heed 
to  his  mother,  seated  on  his  right,  but  more 
than  once  he  lost  himself  in  admiring  con- 
templation of  Ruth's  fair  spiritual  face, 
framed  in  that  exquisite  golden  hair.  What 
a  blockhead  of  a  boy  he  must  have  been  to 
have  thought  her  colorless  and  too  quiet! 
The  longer  he  watched  her,  the  more  she  im- 
pressed him,  until  he  wondered  that  he  had 
dared  go  "  bawling  "  after  such  an  ethereal 
creature  and  joking  with  her  as  he  might 
have  done  with  Madge.  Madge  was  his 
equal — a  "jolly  good  "  companion — but  to- 
ward this  sister  of  hers  he  could  easily  fore- 
see that  he  was  to  feel  more  reverently — yes, 
far  more  tenderly.  All  at  once  it  came  to 
him,  as  his  mother  asked  about  city  matters 
and  Abby  urged  him  to  take  cold  chicken, 
that  he  always  had  felt  something  akin  to 
these  sentiments  for  Ruth  the  child,  Ruth 
the  young  maiden. 

Later  in  the  evening,  when  some  of  the 


RUTH'S  ADVENTURE.  343 

older  ones  had  retired  and  others  of  the 
family  were  entertaining  Bert  in  the  parlor, 
Loraine,  going  to  the  dining-room  for  a  glass 
of  water,  said  to  Abby, 

"  Have  you  had  a  happy  day  ?" 
"  That  I  have,  and  every  day  seems  to  be 
happy  since  I  came  into  my  fortune,  but 
especially  since  I  found  my  orphan.  How 
could  I  ever  have  squandered  all  that  money 
on  myself?  I  never  could  have  done  it,  of 
course.  But  money  isn't  the  point,  either ; 
it  is  neither  here  nor  there,  as  you  might 
say.  Anybody  ought  to  be  happy  in  a 
Christian  home ;  and  if  a  home  ain't  Chris- 
tian, it  ought  to  be.  It  has  got  to  be  if  it  is 
going  to  be  happy.  Then,  when  a  body  is 
happy  that  way,  it  is  the  most  natural  thing 
to  go  looking  for  orphans  and  sick  folks,  and 
ignorant  people  and  outcasts,  and  showing 
them  how  God  is  their  Father  and  wants  to 
give  them  a  home-feeling  if  only  they'll  let 
him.  A  home-feeling  isn't  absolutely  de- 
pendent on  a  home." 

"  What  do  you  mean  by  that,  Abby  ?" 
"  Well,  when  I  was  out  West  in  that  hor- 
rid mining-town  with  rough  and  dirty  folks, 


344  THE  SILENT  MAN'S  LEGACY. 

I  did  not  feel  at  home  in  one  sense,  I  can  tell 
you,  Miss  Faye,  but  in  another  way  I  had 
the  feeling — when  I  went  out  starry  nights, 
for  instance,  and  looked  up  a-realizing  that 
He  was  my  Father  and  their  Father  too, 
caring  for  all  of  us  and  wanting  me  to  care 
for  the  others.  Yes,  it  was  a  home-feeling, 
and  I  was  happy." 

"  I  understand,  for  I  have  found  it,"  said 
Loraine,  "and  I  think  I  shall  never  again 
be  alone." 

"  Yes,  the  Christian  carries  his  home 
around  with  him  if  so  be  he  is  poor,  and 
he  keeps  it  till  he  changes  it  for  heaven,  I 
do  believe." 

"  Come  to  prayers,"  said  Johnny,  putting 
his  head  in  the  doorway. 

The  Professor  opened  to  a  chapter  quite 
new  to  Loraiue,  and  two  verses  of  it  lingered 
in  her  memory  long  afterward  like  a  strain 
of  music :  "  And  the  work  of  righteousness 
shall  be  peace,  and  the  effect  of  righteous- 
ness quietness  and  assurance  for  ever.  And 
my  people  shall  dwell  in  a  peaceable  habita- 
tion, and  in  sure  dwellings,  and  in  quiet 
resting-places." 


CHAPTEK  XVIII. 

MRS.  PRESTON  RECEIVES  A  SHOCK. 

"  O  life  and  love !     O  happy  throng 
Of  thoughts  whose  only  speech  is  song ! 
O  heart  of  man,  canst  thou  not  be 
Blithe  as  the  air  is,  and  as  free  ?" 

LOXGFELLOW. 

WILLING,  and  even  glad,  as  all  were  to 
do  it,  the  amusing  of  Mrs.  Raynor, 
added  to  the  necessary  care  that  she  must 
have,  had  been  a  real  tax  upon  the  time 
and  the  strength  of  both  Ruth  and  Madge. 
They  were  very  glad  that  after  Bert's  arrival 
she  was  wholly  taken  up  with  him.  Every 
morning  he  took  her  for  a  long  drive,  every 
afternoon  she  wanted  him  to  read  and  talk 
to  her,  and  in  the  evening  she  enjoyed  with 
him  the  family  intercourse.  Sometimes  one 
of  the  girls  rode  with  them,  but  not  nearly 
as  often  as  they  were  urged  to  do.  It  was 
Madge  who  went  most  frequently,  and  her 


346  THE  SILENT  MAN'S  LEGACY. 

exuberant  spirits  made  her  a  most  desirable 
companion  for  the  invalid. 

One  beautiful  morning,  a,s  the  mother  and 
her  son  were  going  slowly  along  a  swamp- 
road  not  very  good  for  travel,  but  very 
picturesque,  Mrs.  Kaynor  said, 

"  What  a  cool  woods-odor  comes  from  the 
dense  foliage !  And  see  those  lovely  ferns ! 
Stop  the  horse  here  in  the  shade  and  let  us 
rest  a  while." 

"  I  wish  that  one  of  the  girls  had  come," 
said  Bert,  leaning  out  of  the  carriage  and 
picking  the  ferns  that  grew  almost  under  the 
wheels. 

"  Yes.  I  urged  Ruth,  but  she  was  unde- 
cided when  she  saw  Mr.  Sedgewick  coming  in 
at  the  gate ;  and  while  I  was  finding  Madge 
to  secure  her  both  escaped  me,  and  Abby 
said  they  told  her  that  they  were  too  busy 
and  I  must  excuse  them." 

"Who  is  this  Sedgewick?  He  comes  to 
the  house  rather  often,  doesn't  he?" 

"  Yes ;  lately  he  does  call  often er  than  he 
did  when  I  first  came.  He  is  a  very  genial 
man,  and  you  will  like  him.  I  kept  out  of 
his  way  for  a  while,  because,  of  course,  he  is 


MRS.  PRESTON  RECEIVES  A  SHOCK.     347 

intellectual  and  all  that ;  but  he  is  as  cour- 
teous to  me  as  if  I  knew  something.  Ruth 
and  he  talk  by  the  hour  about  books." 

"  Then  he  comes  to  see  Kuth  ?" 

"Well,"  said  Mrs.  Ray  nor,  with  an  ex- 
pression severely  judicial,  "I  cannot  posi- 
tively affirm  that  he  does,  but  I  believe  so. 
He  first  came,  I  think,  to  visit  the  Professor, 
but  between  him  and  Ruth  there  is  great 
congeniality ;  all  their  tastes  are  similar." 

"I  fancied  that  it  might  be—  That  is, 
doesn't  Madge  like  him?" 

Mrs.  Raynor  detected  the  shade  that 
passed  over  Bert's  face,  and  fancied  she 
could  bring  him  into  the  sunshine  again : 

" '  Like  him '  ?  Oh,  no  doubt.  But  then, 
you  know,  they  are  utterly  unlike,  and — 
Now  I  think  of  it,  perhaps  she  does  not  like 
him.  I  have  heard  her  say  they  had  some 
little  unpleasantness  when  he  first  came  to 
the  academy." 

It  was  very  still  in  the  swamp.  The  tap- 
tap  of  ti  woodpecker  could  be  heard  far  off 
in  the  woods,  and  no  other  sound  but  the 
stir  of  the  tree-tops. 

"  How  very  light-hearted  Madge  seems !" 


348  THE  SILENT  MAN'S  LEGACY. 

said  the  mother,  after  a  long  silence.  "  I 
noticed  it  about  the  time  that  you  came, 
Bert.  I  was  afraid  that  after  the  past  she 
might  feel  ill  at  ease." 

Bert  seemed  just  that.  He  hurriedly  re- 
plied : 

"  She  had  no  reason  to  feel  so.  I  am  not 
sure  that  a  team  could  pass  us  here ;  had  we 
not  better  go  on  ?" 

"Oh,  we  will  hear  any  one  coming  in 
time  to  drive  on  to  where  the  road  is  wider. 
Madge  is  a  wonderfully  capable  girl ;  I  never 
half  appreciated  her  until  I  saw  her  here  at 
home.  She  was  like  any  girl — fond  of  fun 
and  dress,  and  flattery  too — when  she  was 
with  me  that  time  at  the  seaside  ;  I  am  now 
surprised  to  see  her  unselfishness  and  her  real 
stability  of  character.  She  has  matured  great- 
ly since  she — since —  Well,  since  she  did  not 
know  her  own  mind  in  regard  to  you." 

Mrs.  Raynor  paused,  hoping  for  some 
rather  confidential  communication,  but  all 
Bert  said  was, 

"  I  think  she  knew  her  own  mind  accu- 
rately." 

"  Oh,  after  a  fashion.     You  were  too  pre- 


MRS.  PRESTOX  RECEIVES  A   SHOCK.     349 

cipitate  and  did  not  give  her  time  to  like  you. 
She  has  had  it,  and —  Well,  all  I  have  to 
say  is  that  she  was  very  frank  in  telling  how 
pleased  she  was  that  you  were  coming  to 
visit,  and  she  is  very  happy  since  you  ar- 
rived." 

"  Has  father  written  you  about  his  West- 
ern lands  ?  You  know  that  three  thousand 
dollars  he  invested  and  the  fun  we  had  about 

the  city  of  L ,  which  numbered  only  a 

few  hundred  inhabitants  when  he  bought? 
Well,  it  is  a  city  now,  and  his  land  went  up, 
until  he  sold  three  weeks  ago  and  cleared 
forty  thousand  dollars.  I  suppose,  accord- 
ing to-the  ideas  of  people  like  the  Prestons, 
we  are  very  rich.  It  is  comfortable — very," 
he  soliloquized;  "but  there  are  things  that 
money  can't  buy."  A  droll  smile  played 
around  his  mouth  as  he  added,  "  I  suspect, 
though,  that  it  almost  bought  me  a  wife 
upon  one  occasion ;  Madge  was  honest  enough 
to  tell  me  something  to  that  effect.  I  won- 
der if  she  is  the  only  mercenary  one  in  the 
family  ?" 

"You  are  very  unjust,  Bert.  Naturally, 
the  poor  thing,  who  could  scarcely  buy  a 


350  THE  SILENT  MAN'S  LEGACY. 

new  ribbon  without  some  sacrifice,  wanted 
more  means." 

"  Yes,  indeed  !  And  she  acted  more  nobly 
than  even  you  think,"  asserted  Bert. 

Mrs.  Raynor  looked  delighted  at  this 
speech ;  evidently,  matters  would  arrange 
themselves  agreeably  in  due  time: 

"Yes,  money  is  nothing  to  them  merely 
as  a  means  of  show  or  extravagance.  Madge 
would  do  credit  to  a  fine  establishment ;  Ruth 
would—" 

"Would  what?"  asked  the  young  man, 
promptly. 

"  Well,  be  a  little  like  a  stray  angel  with 
a  fat  pocket-book — likely  to  drop  it  any- 
where the  first  time  she  ran  to  somebody's 
assistance,"  said  Mrs.  Raynor. 

"  A  sensible  angel  would  do  the  assisting 
with  some  of  the  contents,  and  Ruth  is  sen- 
sible." 

"  Ruth  is  about  perfect,"  said  the  mother. 

The  son  said  nothing. 

The  morning  after  the  picnic,  and  in  view 
of  Bert  Raynor's  arrival,  Mrs.  Preston — 
awake  at  last  to  the  fact  that  her  little  maids 


MRS.  PRESTON  RECEIVES  A  SHOCK.     351 

were  fully  grown  and  very  fair — took  Madge 
and  warned  her  to  be  very  careful  not  to 
make  any  more  mistakes  in  her  relations 
with  Bert.  To  her  surprise,  Madge  blushed 
scarlet,  laughed  a  little  hysterically  and  as- 
sured her  mother  that  mistakes  were  "im- 
possible "  between  Bert  and  herself. 

"  Very  well,  dear ;  I  am  glad  to  hear  it," 
said  Mrs.  Preston,  adding  roguishly,  "  I 
might  have  remembered  that  you  never  in 
any  circumstances  mean  to  marry.  That 
one  experience  of  an  engagement  was  too 
harrowing." 

Mrs.  Raynor  had  no  thought  beyond  a 
purely  random  jest,  and  great  was  her  as- 
tonishment when  Madge  began  an  incohe- 
rent account  of  "yesterday,  after  dinner — 
and  a  walk — and  Mr.  Sedgewick  and  a 
mud-turtle — and  she  did  not  think  anything 
about  it  at  the  time  "  (though  why  she  should 
think  anything  of  the  mud-turtle  to-day  was 
the  floating  query  in  her  mother's  mind)  ; 
and  "he  talked  and  talked"  (now,  evidently, 
not  the  turtle,  but  the  gentleman),  and — 

"  He  said  he  loved  me." 

"And   what   did   you   say?"   asked  Mrs. 


352  THE  SILENT  MAN'S  LEGACY. 

Preston,  after  a  gasp  and  a  kind  of  implor- 
ing look  at  Ruth. 

"  Oh,  don't  you  be  afraid  that  I  did  any 
rash  thing  that  will  have  to  be  undone.  I — 
I  am  going  to  take  time  for  reflection." 

41  Why,  you  used  to  be  very  unjust  and 
crusty  to  Mr.  Sedge  wick,"  exclaimed  Ruth. 

"  That  is  just  what  I  am  going  to  reflect 
on,  and  repent,  perhaps.  I  had  to  be  crusty 
when  I  fancied  he  was  wronging  father." 

"Madge,"  said  her  mother,  more  sternly 
than  the  sisters  had  heard  her  speak  since 
they  were  children,  "  are  you  capable  of  tri- 
fling with  a  man  like  Mr.  Sedgewick,  and  of 
letting  him  suppose  that  you  might  marry 
him  if  you  do  not  know  whether  or  not  you 
even  like  him  ?" 

"  No,  indeed !"  replied  Madge,  warmly. 
"I  do  like  him  very  much.  I — I  might 
have  said  '  Yes '  right  away,  I  suppose,  but 
I  thought  this  time  I  would  be  very  wise 
and  prudent;  and  here  you  don't  approve 
of  me  this  way,  either;"  and  tears  started 
in  the  great  brown  eyes  so  full  of  light  a 
moment  before. 

"  You  dear  silly  child !"  said  her  mother ; 


MRS.  PRESTON  RECEIVES  A  SHOCK.     353 

"  if  you  were  in  earnest,  I  approve  of  you 
very  much.  But  Mr.  Sedgewick  is  very 
dignified  and  intellectual." 

"  I  should  want  my — him  to  be." 

"And  will  probably  never  be  a  rich  man 
— maybe  always  as  poor  as  your  father  was 
before  we  inherited  this  money." 

"  Father  was  poor,  but  you  married  him, 
and  you  always  led  us  to  think  you  were 
happy." 

"  Madge,"  replied  her  mother,  with  a  little 
quaver  in  her  voice,  "  I  don't  think  Mr. 
Sedgewick  need  be  distressed  at  his  prospects 
during  the  period  that  you  will  take  for  re- 
flection." 

The  mother  and  daughter  talked  very 
earnestly  a  long  time  after  that,  for  under- 
neath Madge's  sometimes  light  words  was  a 
really  solemn  sense  that  now  she  knew  what 
a  true,  unselfish  love  meant.  The  knowledge 
awed  her  and  awakened  all  her  womanliness. 
When  they  were  about  to  separate,  Madge 
said  to  her  mother, 

"  Do  you  think  it  is  necessary  that  the 
Raynors  should  know  just  yet?  I  would 
rather,  on  some  accounts,  that  they  did  not 

23 


354  THE  SILENT  MAN'S  LEGACY. 

know.  Bert  is  perfectly  at  ease  with  me, 
and  has,  I  feel  certain,  gotten  over  all  the 
sentimental  fancy — it  was  nothing  more — 
that  he  had  for  me;  but  Aunt  Jane — 
Well,  she  would  not  like  to  see  Mr.  Sedge- 
wick  here  if  she  thought  he  came  especially 
to  see  me,  and  the  little  while  she  stays  I 
want  her  to  be  comfortable." 

"  I  understand,"  returned  Mrs.  Preston, 
reflecting;  "she  would  be  a  little  mortified 
to  see  another  preferred  to  Bert.  After  they 
go  home  and  your  season  of  *  reflection '  is 
ended  we  can  write  them.  Very  well;  it 
makes  no  difference ;"  and  the  good  lady 
went  to  seek  the  Professor  and  to  surprise 
him  in  turn. 

"No,  of  course  it  makes  no  difference, 
unless,  as  mother  thinks,  Cousin  Jane  might 
feel  disappointed,"  meditated  Ruth.  "And 
yet  I  think  Madge  is  a  little  unjust  to  Bert; 
he  is  capable  of  a  great  deal  more  intense 
feeling  than  she  supposes.  I  like  him,  and  I 
am  sorry  for  him." 


CHAPTER   XIX. 

u  BLESSED  ARE  THE  PURE  IN  HEART." 

"  The  more  we  are  filled  with  the  loving,  persuasive,  trans- 
forming spirit  of  Christ,  the  more  intense,  beneficent,  hopeful 
and  enduring  will  be  the  wayside  service  of  our  lives.  ...  It 
is  the  service  of  life  for  life,  heart  for  heart,  spirit  upon  spirit." 
— J.  R.  MILLER. 

IT  was  Sunday,  and  the  first  day  of  Sep- 
tember. Every  one  who  formed  a  part 
of  the  Preston  household  was  going  to 
church,  and  the  exercises  of  the  day  were 
to  be  in  a  more  or  less  degree  of  peculiar 
interest  to  all.  It  was  communion  Sabbath, 
and  Mrs.  Raynor  was  to  unite  with  the 
visible  Church  of  Christ  on  confession  of 
her  faith  in  him.  Bert  was  at  her  side  to 
renew  the  vows  taken  a  few  years  before, 
and  he  felt  that  his  hope  and  belief  rest- 
ed on  surer  grounds  than  in  those  earlier 
days.  He  had  learned  much  of  his  <>\vu 

255 


356  THE  SILENT  MAN'S  LEGACY. 

weakness  and  more  of  his  Saviour's  suffi- 
ciency. 

It  was  an  extremely  beautiful  day,  and 
Grandma  Grey,  who  could  not  always  en- 
dure the  fatigue  of  the  public  exercises  of 
the  sanctuary,  had  been  counting  much  on 
sitting  to-day  at  the  table  of  her  Lord  in 
company  with  her  dear  ones.  She  went 
from  the  breakfast-table  to  her  room  ;  and 
when  Ruth  heard  the  key  softly  turned  in  the 
lock,  she  knew  that,  as  Abby  quaintly  put  it, 
the  old  saint  was  "  adorning  her  soul "  in 
garments  of  praise  and  prayer.  Indeed,  this 
morning  so  absorbed  did  she  get  in  this 
occupation  that  a  little  time  before  the  first 
church-bell  rang  Ruth  had  to  stand  outside 
her  threshold  and  say  in  her  pretty  petting 
way, 

"Dearie,  I'm  afraid  you  will  not  be 
dressed  in  time  if  I  don't  come  now  and 
help  you." 

The  door  was  quickly  opened,  and  the  old 
lady  somewhat  nervously  bustled  about  her 
preparations. 

"Not  the  black  dress  to-day,  grandma; 
that  is  for  dull  weather,"  said  Ruth.  "I 


"BLESSED  ARE  THE  PURE  IN  HEART?'  357 

like  that  soft  gray  cashmere  so  much  better ; 
it  makes  me  think  of  a  dove's  breast." 

"  Or  a  nice  old  Quakeress,  as  Abby  thinks. 
Well,  the  Quakers  are  a  peaceful  people,  and 
often  very  godly  in  their  walk,"  returned  the 
old  lady,  taking  from  her  closet  the  dress 
that  Ruth  preferred ;  and  then  she  meekly 
resigned  herself  to  the  young  girl's  dainty 
touches.  When  her  snow-white  locks  were 
in  order,  the  soft  lace  kerchief  that  went 
about  her  neck  folded  over  on  her  bosom, 
and  when  she  had  laid  out  her  large-print 
hyinnbook  and  her  tiny  "  smelling-bottle," 
she  was  as  fair  and  sweet  as  any  bride. 

"  Go  now  and  put  on  your  bonnet,  Ruthie, 
while  I  rest  a  few  minutes,"  she  said,  seating 
herself  by  the  open  window  and  crooning  a 
psalm  -tune. 

When  the  first  bell  had  ceased  ringing, 
the  Professor  came  to  the  old  lady's  door, 
saying, 

"  Mother,  you  and  I  will  start  on  and  go 
slowly  down  the  hill ;  then  you  can  rest  a 
bit  before  the  services  begin." 

"Philip,  don't  mention  it  to  the  others, 
but  I  believe  I  had  better  not  venture  out 


358  THE  SILEST  JA4JVS  LEGACY. 

to-day,  after  all;  I  feel  a  little  faint  and 
unsteady  on  my  feet.  It  is  nothing  new  at 
all,  but  at  such  times  I  am  better  to  keep 
quiet." 

"  Oh,  I  am  sorry,  mother'  for  I  know  you 
wanted  to  go  to  the  communion.  I  will  just 
hurry  on  and  ask  some  one  from  the  country 
who  has  a  horse  and  carriage  at  the  church 
to  drive  up  here  and  get  you.  Mr.  Ellers 
will  gladly  come,  and  will  bring  you  home 
at  noon." 

"  No,  dear ;  I  really  do  not  think  that  I 
can  sit  up  all  the  forenoon." 

At  this  point  Mrs.  Preston  and  Ruth  ap- 
peared, and  grandmother's  plan  of  staying 
alone  was  promptly  discarded  as  not  to  be 
allowed  at  all;  "for  you  might  faint  or  be 
very  ill  and  need  help,"  Mrs.  Preston  de- 
clared. 

It  distressed  the  old  lady  to  have  any  one 
of  them  stay,  until  last  of  all  Johnny's 
name  was  mentioned,  and  after  a  moment's 
reflection  she  consented,  saying, 

"  Johnny  is  not  a  church-member,  as  all 
the  rest  of  you  are,  so  he  will  not  miss  as 
much  by  staying.  And  then  I  haven't  seen 


"BLESSED  ARE  THE  PURE  IN  HEART."  359 

the  boy  a  great  deal  lately,  lie  is  so  busy  at 
one  thing  and  another." 

It  was  easy  after  that  to  arrange  every- 
thing satisfactorily,  and  with  tender  words 
of  regret  to  the  old  lady  and  many  admo- 
nitions to  Johnny  to  be  "  real  good  to  his 
grandma,"  the  family  started  off  down  the 
hillside  avenue  toward  the  village  church. 

Johnny  brought  a  hatful  of  apples  and 
two  or  three  books,  and  settled  himself  in 
one  corner  of  grandma's  capacious  lounge. 
She  assured  him  that  if  he  would  not  go 
quite  out  of  the  sound  of  her  voice  or  her 
little  bell  he  need  not  stay  close  by  her, 

Johnny  said,  "  All  right,"  but  being,  for  a 
wonder  in  the  mood  to  read,  he  found  him- 
self very  comfortable.  He  was  perfectly  well 
aware  that  if  he  stayed  long  enough  the  old 
lady  would  "talk  pious"  to  him,  and  John- 
ny was  not  more  spiritually-minded  than  are 
most  rollicking  boys  of  his  age.  At  the  same 
time,  piety  was  not  an  element  that  he  could 
even  in  imagination  eliminate  from  grand- 
ma's character ;  and  was  not  that  character  as 
a  whole  a  never-failing  revelation  of  kindli- 
ness ?  If  he  had  tried  to  put  his  idea  of  her 


360  THE  SILENT  MAN'S  LEGACY. 

into  words,  how  touched  and  amused — yes, 
and  perhaps  shocked — she  would  have  been  ! 
She  was  a  special  providence  to  him.  He  did 
not  love  her  better  than  he  loved  his  mother, 
but  she  was  more  quick  in  looking  over  his 
transgressions  into  his  good  intentions.  He 
did  not  suppose  that  she  had  sinned  for 
years,  and  no  one  on  earth  made  such 
"doughnuts  or  such  ball-covers  as  did 
grandma." 

Johnny  munched  apples  and  read  and 
swung  his  heels  in  content  until  he  reached 
the  last  page  of  the  book,  and  then  he 
tossed  it  aside.  He  looked  out  the  window 
and  called  to  the  cat;  he  looked  at  his 
grandfather's  portrait  over  the  bed,  and 
thought  of  him  as  having  been  dead  nearly 
as  long  as  Moses — in  fact,  for  no  conceivable 
reason,  Johnny  fancied  that  he  resembled 
Moses ;  then  he  looked  at  his  grandmother. 
Her  sweet  face  was  calm,  but  there  were  tears 
in  her  faded  blue  eyes. 

"  Does  your  back  .ache  ?"  he  asked,  sym- 
pathetically. 

"No,  little  boy;  I  was  thinking  how  I 
would  like  to  be  down  in  the  church  with 


"BLESSED  ARE  THE  PURE  IN  HEART."  361 

the  others.  It  is  a  holy,  holy  day  and  a 
precious  feast." 

"  It  is — only  bread  and  wine,"  *;aid 
Johnny,  under  his  breath,  curious,  but  not 
irreverent,  as  he  tried  to  follow  the  old 
lady's  thought. 

"  That  is  all  that  you  see ;  but,  my  child, 
if  you  are  thinking  of  the  spotless  Son  of 
God,  who  lived  down  here  among  men  and 
loved  and  blessed  them — if  you  realize  that, 
though  he  ascended  into  heaven,  he  said  to 
those  who  loved  him,  '  Lo,  I  am  with  you 
alway,'  and  that  he  is  a  friend,  a  helper, 
to-day  as  much  as — yes,  more  than — when 
he  walked  the  streets  of  Jerusalem, — then, 
Johnny,  this  communion  means,  not  bread 
and  wine,  but  meeting  the  blessed  Saviour. 
The  last  time  I  sat  in  the  church  on  a  com- 
munion Sunday  was  before  your  uncle 
Henry  died ;  I  have  been  there  since  then 
on  other  Sundays.  Well,  that  day  we  were 
all  in  trouble ;  your  pa  was  poor  and  your 
ma  sick,  and  I  felt  pretty  low  in  my  mind. 
I  had  only  ten  cents  that  I  'thought  I  ought 
to  put  into  the  plate  for  the  poor  of  the 
church,  and  that  grieved  me,  until  just 


362  THE  SILENT  MAN'S  LEGACY. 

before  the  plate  came  to  ine  I  happened  to 
think  that  I  might  just  give  it  to  Jesus;  he 
knew  how  I  loved  him  and  loved  his  poor. 
He  was  at  his  own  feast,  and  was  he  not 
Lord  of  the  whole  earth,  as  when  he  made 
water  wine  and  the  little  loaves  and  fishes 
into  plenty  for  thousands?  And,  Johnny," 
whispered  the  old  lady,  "  some  way  I  never 
knew  who  held  out  that  plate  to  me,  for  it 
seemed  to  me  as  if  the  Lord  himself  stood 
there  holding  out  his  hands  and  I  was  fall- 
ing at  his  feet  in  adoration.  It  is  love  that 
makes  that  a  feast;  it  is  the  remembrance 
of  him  that  calls  out  that  love  in  us.  Don't 
you  love  the  Saviour,  Johnny  ?" 

"I  ain't  good  enough  to,  but  I  can't  help 
it  sometimes,"  said  the  boy,  his  own  eyes 
very  misty. 

"  Do  you  stop  loving  me  when  you  are 
not  good  ?" 

"  No ;  I  love  you  all  the  better  then, 
'cause  you  are  forgiving  and  you  set  me 
straight  again." 

"And  I  love  you  when  you  are  not  good 
because  you  need  me  most  then.  Now, 
Johnny,  you  know  about  your  Saviour  all 


"  BLESSED  ARE  THE  PURE  IN  HEART."  363 

that  any  one  can  teach  you,  and  what  you 
ought  to  do  is  to  think  more  about  him,  to 
love  him  better  every  day,  to  pray  for  help 
to  do  his  commandments,  and  then  to  go 
down  there  to  the  dear  old  church  and 
stand  up  among  his  people." 

Johnny  sat  in  silence  a  long  time. 

"Some  of  these  Sundays  I  will  not  be 
here,"  continued  the  old  lady. 

"Are  you  going  to  New  York?" 

"  No,  child,  but  to  heaven,  and  I  want  to 
know  that  you  are  following  the  Saviour  on 
earth  and  coming  to  be  with  me  there." 

"  I  surely  will,  grandmother,  but  I  shall 
be  awful  clumsy  about  it,  for  I  am  slow, 
any  way,  you  know,"  he  exclaimed,  sitting 
up  resolutely. 

"  We  are  all  clumsy  and  slow,  dear,  until 
the  Lord  gets  through  teaching  us,  but  his 
patience  never  gives  out.  Now  I  am  a 
little  tired,  and  you  may  run  out  in  the 
garden  and  pick  me  my  Sunday  bouquet. 
But  first  turn  over  my  Silent  Comforter 
and  let  me  see  the  verse  for  to-day  as  I  lie 
on  my  bed." 

Grandma   went   to   rest   herself  a  while, 


364  THE  SILENT  MAN'S  LEGACY. 

reading,  as  Johnny  turned  the  leaves  on  the 
wall, 

"  '  Blessed  are  the  pure  in  heart ;  for  they 
shall  see  God.'  That  is  beautiful.  And 
never  forget  that  we  don't  have  to  wait  for 
purity  until  we  get  to  heaven.  Ask  the 
Lord  to  keep  making  your  heart  pure  every 
day  of  your  life,  and  then  God  will  manifest 
himself  to  you ;  he  promises  that  in  his 
gospel."  • 

Johnny  lingered  by  the  bed,  fingering 
grandma's  kerchief  with  boyish  admiration. 

"  Why  don't  you  wear  it  every  day  ? 
You  look  awfully  pretty,"  he  asked. 

Mrs.  Grey  laughed  with  innocent  pleasure, 
and  the  lad  half  bashfully  kissed  her 
wrinkled  cheek,  because  he  felt  very  old  in 
these  days  and  thought  kissing  childish ; 
then  he  went  to  the  garden.  There  he 
struggled  with  the  desire  to  make  such  a 
bouquet  as  he  liked,  and  with  the  conviction 
that  the  sort  that  Ruth  made  were  more  in 
accordance  with  grandmother's  tastes.  The 
biggest,  most  flaunting  blossoms  with  what 
he  characteristically  termed  "  the  loudest 
gmell "  were  most  beautiful  in  his  eyes.  He 


"SLESSED  ARE  THE  PURE  IN  HEART."  365 

was  in  a  softened  mood,  however ;  so,  coming 
on  a  bed  of  purest  white  lilies,  he  picke  1  a 
double  handful,  and  with  a  cluster  of  rose- 
geraniuni  leaves  carried  them,  back  to  the 
old  lady.  He  found  a  vase  and  arranged 
them  on  the  table  by  the  bed,  first  laying  a 
number  of  them  on  her  breast,  and  felt 
rewarded  when  she  warmly  praised  his  good 
taste.  He  took  another  book  then,  and  read 
until  noon  in  the  piazza. 

It  was  a  long,  peaceful  morning — a  good 
morning  in  the  congregation  of  saints 
gathered  in  the  church,  a  holy  morning  to 
the  saint  in  the  silent  room  which  the  fair 
lilies  filled  with  perfume.  She  touched  no 
broken  bread,  no  silver  wine-cup,  but  great 
blessedness  came  to  her. 

At  noon,  with  a  common  impulse,  the 
family  turned  toward  grandmother's  room  to 
see  if  she  were  feeling  better.  Ruth  stayed 
them  with  finger  on  lip,  whispering, 

"  Fast  asleep  with  flowers  on  her  bosom." 
Abby  gazed  fixedly,  went  forward  slowly, 
stood   hesitating,  touched   one  wrinkled  icy 
hand  and  broke  into  a  long,  bitter  wail. 


366  THE  STLENT  MAN'S  LEGACY. 

When  grief  had  had  free  course  for  hours 
and  the  grandchildren  were  quite  spent  with 
crying,  they  gathered  again  around  that  bed, 
and  the  pastor  whom  their  grandmother 
loved  so  well  soothed  them  with  tender, 
hopeful  words — memories  of  the  rare  life 
here  ended  begun  above,  promises  of  blessed 
reunion  a  little  later  and  inspirations  to 
follow  Christ  as  closely  as  she  had  done.  It 
was  very  sad  for  them,  but  they  could  not 
help  acknowledging  that  in  no  more  loving 
way  could  the  death-angel  have  summoned 
grandma's  pure  spirit.  His  touch  had  left 
no  trace  of  pain  on  her  face;  he  had  not 
even  shaken  the  earth-flowers  from  her 
grasp.  Suddenly,  without  struggle  or  suf- 
fering, she  had  joined  the  redeemed. 

Very  often  the  death  of  the  aged  is  only 
a  relief  to  the  living ;  this  ought  not  so  to  be. 
It  will  not  be  if  the  departed  soul  has  been 
a  fit  dwelling-place  for  the  Holy  Spirit  and 
graces  have  ripened  with  years. 


CHAPTER  XX. 

RUTH. 

"The  grand  essentials  of  happiness  are  something  to  do, 
something  to  love  and  something   to  hope  for." — CHALMERS. 

THE  summer  came  to  a  speedy  end,  aiid 
much  earlier  than  usual  the  leaves  £'11, 
while  the  autumn  winds  and  rain  made  out- 
door exercise  very  dismal. 

After  Grandmother  Grey's  death  Mrs. 
Kay  nor  found  the  atmosphere  of  the  house 
a  little  depressing,  although  every  one 
showed  her  a  cheerful  face.  They  mourned, 
and  could  not  conceal  the  fact.  She  herself 
missed  the  confidential,  earnest  Christian  in- 
tercourse with  the  old  lady — an  intercourse 
that  had  been  to  her  of  incalculable  value. 
She  was,  therefore,  not  unwilling  to  reti  rn 
to  her  own  home  when  Bert  found  it  neces- 
sary to  resume  his  business. 

Mrs.  Raynor  was  so  much  better  in  both 
mind  and  body  that  her  friends  felt  assured 


368  THE  SILENT  MAN'S  LEGACY. 

that  life  would  never  again  mean  to  her  the 
aimless  existence  it  had  meant.  They  were 
sorry  to  have  her  go  from  them ;  if  not  a 
very  interesting  person,  she  was  kind  and, 
as  Abby  privately  designated  her,  "  harm- 
less." With  Bert  one  and  all  were  heartily 
unwilling  to  part,  for  more  winning  kindness 
and  thoughtful  consideration  of  other  people's 
interests  could  not  well  be  found  in  any  other 
young  man  whom  they  knew.  Sometimes 
they  fancied  that  he  was  fast  losing  his  for- 
mer gayety  and  acquiring  a  gravity  that  oc- 
casionally seemed  like  melancholy ;  but  if 
any  demands  were  made  on  him  at  such 
times,  he  was  eager  to  be  helpful.  His  moth- 
er had  a  theory  that  accounted  for  his  state 
of  mind,  and  she  wrote  to  his  father  that 
Bert  found  it  rather  trying  that  Madge  would 
give  him  no  "  encouragement." 

Ruth  shared  Mrs.  Raynor's  views  so  far 
as  Bert's  low  spirits  were  concerned,  and  she 
too  thought  that  he  had  better  go  home. 
For  the  first  time  in  Ruth's  own  sunny  life 
she  was  inclined  to  look  down  instead  of 
looking  up,  in  instead  of  around,  and  to  be 
despondent.  Nobody  seemed  especially  to 


RUTH.  369 

need  her.  The  mother's  cares  were  lifted ; 
Madge  was  very  happy,  and  was  being  taken 
out  of  Ruth's  life, — at  least  Madge  had 
now  a  closer  friend;  Loraine  was  busily 
content  in  her  school ;  and,  saddest  of  all, 
there  was  no  dear  old  grandmother  to  pet 
and  to  be  petted  in  a  quiet  corner  of  that 
now  still  and  unoccupied  room  where  Ruth 
used  to  take  all  her  troubles.  Bert  would 
gladly  have  spent  more  of  his  time  with 
Ruth,  but  she  was  elusive,  and  after  that 
first  evening  never  so  accessible. 

By  the  first  day  of  October,  therefore, 
the  Raynors  were  settled  in  their  city  home, 
and  the  Professor's  household  seemed  quieter 
than  ever  before. 

Abby  and "  Dr.  Hickox  about  this  time 
were  doing  for  Moza.  Since  the  day  of  the 
picnic  the  doctor  had  taken  the  boy  under 
his  care  professionally,  and  the  result  was 
surprising.  From  the  first  the  doctor  had 
believed  that  exercise  would  restore  the  power 
to  Moza's  limbs,  which,  he  insisted,  were  not 
really  paralyzed.  He  had  so  far  benefited 
the  boy  that  he  could  walk  with  two  crutches, 
and  the  doctor  declared  that  in  time  his  gen- 

24 


370  THE  SILENT  MAN'S  LEGACY. 

era!  health  would  be  very  good,  and,  as  his 
mind  had  never  been  in  the  least  impaired, 
he  could  learn  a  trade.  He  would  be  lame 
in  one  leg  for  life,  but  that  seemed  nothing 
to  the  poor  fellow  who  once  expected  to  be 
bedridden  and  a  pauper  all  his  days.  After 
many  talks  with  him  the  doctor  had  a  plan 
of  his  own  for  the  boy,  whom  he  found  by 
no  means  dull.  Early  in  October  he  re- 
moved him  from  the  county-house  and 
lodged  him  with  his  aunt,  who  was  glad  to 
do  anything  that  she  could  for  him,  but  who 
was  too  poor  to  feed  or  clothe  him.  Every 
morning  he  hobbled  over  to  the  doctor's 
office,  which  fortunately  was  within  easy  dis- 
tance. There  he  acted  as  office-boy  all  clay, 
taking  messages  and  keeping  things  tidy,  or 
sometimes  driving  for  the  doctor.  The  office 
was  in  the  house,  and  in  return  for  his  serv- 
ices Moza  had  comfortable  food  and  decent 
clothing.  He  could  not  earn  more ;  often 
he  shrewdly  guessed  that  he  did  not  earn 
that  much,  for  active  boys  able  to  harness 
the  horse  and  do  stable-work  sometimes  ap- 
plied for  his  situation,  but  the  doctor  sent 
them  away. 


RUTH.  371 

Abby  it  was,  however,  who  gave  Moza  his 
best  start  in  life  when  one  day  she  said  to 
him, 

"  Moza,  in  this  world  there  is  something 
sort  of  curious  that  I've  noticed  real  often. 
Some  folks  the  Lord  means  to  go  through 
on  their  legs,  and  some  folks  on  their  heads : 
I've  been  thinking  maybe  you  are  meant  to 
go  on  your  head." 

Moza's  great  black  eyes  opened  in  amaze- 
ment. Dr.  Hickox  had  put  him  through 
many  kinds  of  bodily  exercises,  but  noth- 
ing quite  so  erratic  as  locomotion  upside 
down. 

"  I  mean  like  this ;"  and  Abby  extended 
a  number  six  shoe  with  a  "  common-sense  " 
heel  with  vast  dimensions.  "  Evidently,  he 
meant  me  to  make  them  carry  me  around 
lively  'from  morn  till  dewy  eve,'  as  the 
hymn  says.  I  knew  so  because  my  head  was 
that  useless  for  learning  anything  out  of  books 
whereby  I  might  earn  my  bread  and  butter 
that  reading  almost  made  it  rickety,  and 
'rithmetic —  Well,  I  tell  you  I  am  thank- 
ful I've  got  ten  fingers  to  count  on,  and  I 
use  'em,  too,  oftener  than  any  multiplication- 


372  THE  SILENT  MAN'S  LEGACY. 

table.  For  me  digging  would  be  fun,  but 
study —  Oh,  my  gracious!" 

Abby  very  seldom  indulged  in  expletives, 
so  Moza  felt  that  she  was  greatly  in  earnest 
when  she  continued: 

"  Now,  it  was  what  the  Professor  calls  a 
'  wise  provision  of  Nature ' — meaning  Provi- 
dence, of  course — that  weak  and  nobbly  legs 
often  carry  first-class  head-pieces.  I'm  in- 
clined to  think,  Moza,  that  you  could  learn 
out  of  books." 

"Oh,  I  love  to  do  it!  The  doctor  has 
promised  me  a  lot  of  old  school-books. 
You  know  I  always  kept  up  with  my  classes 
before  I  got  hurt." 

"Exactly.  Then  fill  your  head  full  of 
the  kind  of  information  that  will  some  day 
make  you  independent  of — of  your  legs ; 
then  you  can  be  a  doctor  yourself." 

"  Could  I  ?"  exclaimed  Moza. 

"  It  ain't  for  me  to  say,  so  far  as  the  main 
thing  is  concerned ;  it  is  for  your  head  to 
carry  you  there." 

"Where?"  asked  Moza;  for  Abby  nodded 
her  own  head  as  if  toward  some  special 
locality. 


EUTH.  373 

"To  college." 

"  Whew !     That  costs  money." 

"  Moza,  if  you  will  do  your  best  to  fit 
yourself,  I  will  see  that  you  go,"  replied 
Abby. 

Was  Abby  not  now  a  person  of  means? 
Did  she  not  regard  Moza  as  her  property, 
too,  and  might  she  not  help  educate  a 
doctor  ? 

November  came  in  a  relenting  mood,  and 
brought  with  it  blue  skies  and  balmy  airs. 
Ruth  used  to  take  long  walks  through  the 
quiet  village  streets  under  the  leafless  trees, 
whose  soft  gray  tracery  against  the  sky  was 
very  beautiful,  and  whose  interlaced  tops 
again  reminded  her  of  the  lovely  old  cathe- 
drals she  saw  in  that  European  trip  that 
sometimes  seemed  to  her  very,  very  long 
ago.  Then,  because  she  was  only  a  girl, 
and  not,  as  Mrs.  Ray  nor  declared  that  she 
was,  either  an  "  angel "  or  "  perfect,"  Ruth 
grew  a  little  morbid  and  unreasonable,  and 
wondered  if  she  had  any  place  in  the  world, 
and  if  it  would  have  made  much  difference 
to  any  one  if  she  had  died  that  time  she  had 


374  THE  SILENT  MAN'S  LEGACY. 

the  fever  abroad.  But  one  day  she  resolved 
that  this  was  weak  and  wicked.  She  went 
home  and  entered  with  new  energy  into  the 
family-life,  perceiving  almost  as  soon  as  she 
did  so  that  her  mother  looked  weary  and  in 
need  of  change  of  some  kind.  She  was  not 
overworked,  but  the  large  family  during 
the  summer  and  the  death  of  her  own 
mother  had  taxed  her  strength  physically 
and  mentally. 

About  the  middle  of  December  an  urgent 
invitation  was  received  from  the  Raynors 
for  just  as  many  of  the  Prestons  as  could 
come  to  make  them  a  visit  extending  at  the 
least  over  the  holidays.  It  was  at  once 
decided  by  Ruth  and  Madge  that  their 
parents  must  go,  for  the  needed  rest  and 
change  of  scene ;  so  the  week  before  Christ- 
inas saw  them  on  their  way.  Ruth  was 
rather  glad  of  the  added  care  thus  thrown 
upon  her.  She  took  on  herself  all  her 
mother's  duties  and  left  Madge  free  for 
many  seasons  of  reflection,  but  not  always 
solitary  "  reflection,"  Mr.  Sedgewick  fre- 
quently assisting  on  these  occasions. 

Christmas  Day  was  spent  very  quietly,  for 


RUTH.  375 

no  one  in  the  house  could  forget  that  last 
year  there  was  there  a  gracious  presence  which 
had  for  ever  gone  out  from  them.  In  the 
evening  Madge,  Loraine  and  Johnny  went 
to  a  Sunday-school  festival  in  the  church, 
but  Ruth,  having  a  cold,  remained  at  home. 
She  was  sitting  in  the  firelight  singing  softly 
to  herself: 

"  O  little  town  of  Bethlehem, 

How  still  we  see  thee  lie  ! 
Above  thy  deep  and  dreamless  sleep 

The  silent  hours  go  by. 
Yet  in  thy  dark  streets  shineth 

The  everlasting  Light ; 
The  hopes  and  fears  of  all  the  years 

Are  met  in  thee  to-night." 

Out  of  a  host  of  tender  thoughts  of  the 
dead,  and  of  not  less  loving  remembrances  of 
the  living,  Ruth  was  startled  by  the  opening 
of  a  door  and  the  entrance  of  some  one — 
Mr.  Sedgewick,  as  she  supposed  for  a  mo- 
ment, until  Bert  exclaimed, 

"  No  Christmas  greeting  for  a  belated  trav- 
eler?" 

Of  course  there  was  a  cordial  one,  made 
unrestrained  by  the  fact  that  Bert  was  in  one 
of  his  sunniest  moods,  overflowing  with  the 


376  THE  SILENT  MAN'S  LEGACY. 

peace  and  good-will  of  the  season  itself. 
When  they  had  discussed  the  doings  of  the 
Professor  and  his  wife  in  New  York  and  all 
the  items  of  interest  in  the  respective  house- 
holds, Bert  said, 

"I  expected  to  be  here  at  noon,  but  we 
were  delayed  by  snowdrifts." 

"  Well,  I  am  very  glad  you  are  here  now," 
said  Ruth,  pleasantly. 

"Are  you  ?  Well,  I  wish  you  would  ask 
me  why  I  came,  because  I  want  a  chance  to 
tell  you  the  reason." 

"  Let  us  have  it  at  once.  Nothing  has 
happened  to — " 

"Everybody  is  well  and  happy,  only  not 
so  happy  as  I  was  to  learn  yesterday  that 
Mr.  Sedgewick  is  engaged  to  Madge.  I 
thought  that  you  meant  to  marry  him,  and, 
Ruth—" 

But  in  dialogues  similar  to  the  one  which 
followed  two  persons  only  are  required  to 
sustain  the  parts,  and  no  audience  at  all  is 
desirable. 

Seven  years  have  come  and  gone  since 
a  June  morning  when  in  the  village  church 


RUTH.  377 

"the  Professor's  girls"  were  married  with 
fair  promises  of  happiness,  and  so  far  those 
promises  have  been  richly  fulfilled.  The 
house  on  the  hill  still  shelters  the  old  in- 
mates, and,  contrary  to  the  adage,  another 
family  dwells  there  in  harmony.  Madge, 
beautiful  as  ever,  but  with  added  dignity  and 
gentleness,  is  not  less  the  devoted  daughter 
that  she  is  herself  a  wife  and  a  mother. 
Four  of  the  most  remarkable  children — if 
Abby's  word  is  to  be  taken — that  ever  were 
born  have  come  to  keep  the  house  gay  and 
bright  with  youth  again.  Abby  ought  to 
know,  for  much  of  her  time  is  spent  in  a 
big  chair  with  a  girl  on  each  arm  and  two 
boys  dangling  from  the  back  while  she  tells 
of  that  time  "  I  was  'way  out  West."  The 
Professor  and  Mr.  Sedgewick  have  built  up 
a  school  after  their  own  hearts,  and  the  pres- 
ant  generation  of  village  youths  are  profit- 
ing by  the  fact.  Loraine  Faye  is  at  the 
head  of  a  seminary  for  young  women  in  the 
building  once  known  as  Mrs.  Allen's  sem- 
inary. In  this  home  of  her  girlhood  she  is 
doing  noble  work. 

And   Kuth  is  the  wife  of  a   millionaire, 


378  THE  SILENT  MAN'S  LEGACY. 

with  a  husband  and  a  father-in-law  eager  to 
gratify  every  whim.  Does  she  spend  mon- 
ey ?  Is  she  a  power  in  society  ?  Yes.  She 
is  no  recluse ;  she  wears  soft  silks  and  vel- 
vets ;  she  is  often  seen  where  the  "  world's 
people  "  wonder  at  the  grace  and  the  ease 
of  a  lady  "  in  her  position  "  who  never  at- 
tends balls  or  theatres.  She  has  no  children 
— or  she  has,  as  Bert  says,  "hundreds  of 
them."  Oh,  they  know  Ruth  in  orphan 
asylums !  She  sends  barges  full  of  babies 
sailing  for  cool  breezes ;  she  brings  delight 
into  childish  hearts  at  every  holiday,  and 
very,  very  often — not  dressed  in  silks — she 
moves  softly  through  hospital  wards.  There 
are  rough  men  who  bless  her  with  dimmed 
eyes,  wicked  women  who  reach  out  and  touch 
her  garments  for  very  love  and  gratitude. 
Sometimes,  in  the  presence  of  appalling 
wretchedness  and  sin,  where  so  young  a 
woman  might  naturally  be  dumb,  it  would 
almost  seem  as  if  Grandmother  Grey's  man- 
tle had  descended  on  her,  so  wondrously  wise, 
so  weighty  with  loving-kindness,  are  the  coun- 
sels she  utters.  Again,  in  "  society  "  has  it 
many  times  happened  that  from  the  lips 


RUTH.  379 

of  an  infidel,  a  scoffer  or  a  "  fast "  man  or 
woman  would  fall  a  sneer  at  the  faith  Ruth 
holds  most  holy.  She  never  argues,  seldom 
reproaches,  but  a  voice  sweet  with  kindness 
repeats  a  saying  of  the  Saviour,  a  quaint  re- 
membered passage  of  old  Leighton  or  John 
Bunyan,  and  it  is  as  if  a  casket  of  precious 
perfume  were  opened  on  the  air. 


THE   END. 


UC  SOUTHERN  REGIONAL 


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